


Darkness and Moonbeams

by MischiefJoKeR



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Bartender Bunny, BlackIce Week, BlackJack Hustler Pitch, Creepy Pitch, Eventual Smut, M/M, Pokerface Sandy, Server Jack, casino - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2017-12-22 00:57:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/907008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MischiefJoKeR/pseuds/MischiefJoKeR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Moonbeam Casino is a hot spot for all the gambling addicts of Las Vegas. With a stunning atmosphere, four star attached hotel, large choice of spirits and performing bartenders, and a variety of games to try your hand at, the place is bustling late into the night. His regulars call him Jack Frost, the male server glowing as he walks around his station. The glow can only reach so far until it reaches the edge of darkness, where he catches the interest of a dangerous player.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Black Velvet

**Author's Note:**

> This story was thought up a while ago, and posted for the AU day of BlackIce week. It will update as I get inspired, unlike Lullaby, which updates weekly. Enjoy!

By nine in the morning there was always a line down the street. The cobble was paved with art and billboards advertising the greatest recreations far and beyond this path. They advertised everything this tightly-packed street in Nevada could offer the numerous tourists and fun-loving citizens. The lush palace of _The Moonbeam Casino_ welcomes guests young and old, talented and not-so-talented as far as they were willing to come. Its grandeur was highlighted by dark navy floors, gradient walls littered with tiny lights for stars, and other flashy booths made with white marble. The main attractions had lights casted down on them from the high ceilings, the center of the establishment shining down on them like a moonbeam itself. The bar, the poker tables, the roulette wheel itself looking like the satellite, and more. The entire place was alight with spectral wonders and themes of nighttime, which was the busiest time for the casino.

Jackson Overland Frost worked during these busy times. The youngest of the servers, making his way through bartending classes on the tips his customers gave him. He and the ladies were the stars of the floor, tending to their regulars and new-comers, making them welcome and more-than-keen to spend all their earnings on the games. The girls wore their dark navy tops and skirts with different colored accessories and make up, offering a bright change on the floor. Jack, being the only male server as well as the youngest at the age of twenty was offered a change in dress. The Manager gave him a white suit vest and matching slacks. His undershirt was sky blue to match his eyes, illuminate them more in the darkened sectors of the floor. He was perpetually glowing as he strode through the streams of people, tray balanced on his pale fingers and serving his customers with a pearly white smile.

That’s what Jack Frost (as his regulars called him) did for his job, and he loved it.

“Guess what I need on the double, Bunbun?” Jack leaned on his elbows at the server station, a direct view into the bartender station. Jack eyed the bottles and the men and women performing with them as they mixed drinks, reminding himself that soon he’d be among them. Aster Bunnymund, the tall Australian with an incredibly laughable name rounded on Jack. He had some stubble on his chin with dark brown hair smoothed back over his head, a few strands flung forwards over his forehead. Jack smiled as he always saw the frown lines on that forehead and a scowl over his lips.

“I warn you, Frost,” Aster pointed threateningly at the server as if it could strike him dead. Jack laughed wholeheartedly.

“I need a Kangaroo, that’s what!” He beamed. An inside joke Jack developed just for the sake of calling the Australian a kangaroo, since it was one of his regulars’ favorite cocktails. “ _Hop_ to it, you’ve got a bar full of people to serve too!”

“Yeah, I’ll serve ya a good wallop after shift too.” Aster grumbled but went to his wall of bottles, prepping Jack’s drink. He smiled, leaning back on the counter as he waited, eyes darting around at the activity in the place. He recognized many faces even in the deep colors of the establishment, as well as unfamiliar groups of young men coming for their first time. The girls took heed to reach them within four steps of entering, promising to take good care of them. Jack preferred to man the main door when his customers were winding down, but tonight was so busy he imagined he’d be flitting across the floors nonstop.

“Get goin’, ya show pony.” Aster set the glass on Jack’s placed tray before sliding back to his own customers that spent their night under his watchful eyes, too intoxicated for the games around them. Jack smiled and gave a barely-heard thank you as he shuffled off to his table. His customer was sat at one of the round moon-like tables talking with his buddies. Jack sometimes served them too, but they seemed to enjoy talking about whatever it was they did without the influence of a drink. Jack sidled up and set the drink on the man’s coaster softly.

“—and then I, ah, thank you, Jack!” the middle aged man shot him a smile, the corners of his eyes creasing as he did. Jack gave a closed-lip smile in return and nodded.

“Not a problem, Mr. Stiles. I’ll be back to check on ya,” He waved, twirling his now-empty tray on his fingers as he walked the floor. The back sector was all full of flashing lights from the slot machines, and frequently Jack would cross the front row to make a calmer pass to the other game tables.

“’Ey, evening, son!” Jack pulled a smile back onto his face as the large form of one of the slots regular players (and losers), Nicholas, approached. He gave Jack a sharp pat on the back, his hands large enough to nearly throw the small boy off balance.

“Evening, Mr. North. Any luck?” Jack tilted his chin towards the machine. Nicholas North gave a bulky shrug, one large, tattooed arm stroking his beard, color aged away from it.

“Not yet, but night is still young, yes? My luck improve from a peppermint schnapps, you think?” Jack smiled again and shook his head, lifting his eyes up to the patron.

“C’mon, Nick. You know I can’t serve you anything when you’re at the machines. Take a break later and I’ll make sure you get enough peppermint to give you fresh breath until Christmas.” The Russian bellowed with laughter, his hands dropping to his gut. Jack couldn’t stop smiling when the man was literally everything he associated with a mall Santa.

“Ah! I never pull fast one on you, boy. I will seek you out later if so, yes?” The man took a seat on the stool again, comfortable with his jar of coins. Jack nodded, tucking the tray on his forearm.

“Sure thing. Good luck!” He shot him a toothy smile as the man waved him away, allowing him to continue perusing through his guests. The night drew on, and Jack’s ten o’clock shift slowly took him to midnight. The ringing of bells went through the place, signifying the hour of importance, but the establishment wouldn’t close its doors until dawn. Jack was in for a long night, but smiling and making his tips kept him alert through his nocturnal lifestyle.

“Jacky, hey!” Jack turned from his post near the door, checking for any new entrants. A server with brunette hair tied up in a bun chaotically, and a multicolored headband keeping away the strands strode over. Like most of the girls, she wore the uniform, though she had the habit of keeping a petticoat of yellow, green, blue and violet underneath the skirt, glittering attractively as she moved. She approached him quickly like a hummingbird, close enough so that Jack could make out the freckles under her eyes. “So, one of my tables at Poker just bought a round for everyone. Could you lend a hand?”

“Sure thing, Baby.” He smiled up at her, delighted that she enjoyed her pet name. He didn’t know the others servers well, but Baby had trained him in and always kept him up to speed with everything within the casino. It was like she was everywhere at the same time with quick, graceful steps and a fleeting charm. She smiled, an act that made her eyes squint closed slightly and show off her eye shadow of the day. Today, it was a bright magenta.

“Thanks! C’mon, Aster and Sera are getting them ready now.” She tugged his arm and led him to their station, the two bartenders already setting a multitude of drinks on two separate trays. “So there’s three Cosmos, a Mai-Tai, four Guinness, a Black Velvet, and a Black and Tan. You know them all, right snowflake?” Baby turned to Jack as he lifted a tray of drinks. He recognized the three cosmopolitans easily, and only knew the Black and Tan by the tall glass it was in. the other must have been a Black Velvet by his guess, given the dark stout color and yet a shimmering lightness at the bottom. Baby took the tray of tap beers and the Mai-Tai.

“Yeah, I got it.”

“Okay,” she walked slower than the normal pace, making sure Jack kept his balance and also taking her time to get across the room. “The three girls in blue have those Cosmos, the blond guy has the Tan, and the tall dude in the back has the Velvet. Got it?”

“Rodger dodger,” Jack affirmed as they approached, smile at the ready. Baby was already talking away.

“Here’s your Mai-tai, ma’am! Here boys, pass ‘em down the line!” She handed out her drinks as Jack rounded the table. The three girls were chatting away, and Jack left their cosmopolitans in position. They thanked him distractedly, though he still smiled and wished them a good night. A stout man with blond hair and a bizarre, yellow suit clapped his hands as Jack gave him his drink, resisting a chuckle.

“Here you are, sir.”

“Surprised to see you so giddy after yet another win, Sanderson. Shame if it were to end,” A low, dark voice came from the back of the table, just around the edge where Jack served the blond man. Sanderson as he was called, waved a hand, making a face that could only be known as ‘bitch please’ as he took his Black and Tan in hand. Jack glanced to the side where the ‘tall dude’ Baby remarked was sat. The moonbeam over the table didn’t strike him directly, but even standing Jack could see how tall the man was while sitting. He wore a black suit with a dark grey undershirt, no tie at his collar. The little light that bounced off of the card table emphasized the sharp planes of his face, and more so illuminated his bright and unnatural looking eyes. More so, how they were directly aimed at Jack. He swallowed hard and set his drink in front of him. “Thank you,” he said again, causing Jack to avert his eyes, without missing a smirk coming over the other’s face.

“C’mon Pitch, if you’d actually beat Sandy’s poker face you might actually buy us a round instead.” The woman with the Mai-tai remarked, though Jack didn’t recognize her. The poker tables weren’t his usual hang out, after all.

“I’d prefer that, but if he insists on besting us, I will buy a fine drink at his expense.” The tall man said again, all traces of the smirk gone from his face. Jack could see even in the dim lightning that his skin was also unnaturally colored, pallid and some form of grey. He swallowed hard as the man took a drink, watching as his Adam’s apple bobbed with a swallow. He started when the man glanced over at the still-hovering server. Before he could question it, Jack brought forth conversation as second-nature.

“I haven’t served a Black Velvet before, uh, what’s in it?” He asked, flashing his smile again. The man chuckled, not even needing to open his mouth to let the sound rumble and carry to Jack.

“Guinness mixed with champagne.”

“Oh…” Jack replied not-so-eloquently, staring at the glass and now recognizing the light liquid shimmering in it. Sanderson must have won quite a fortune in the night already.

“See you boys later, I’ll be back!” Baby’s voice drew his eyes away and more so when her elbow hooked his and spun him away. Jack let out a laugh as he was dragged from the table, catching Sanderson wave and giving a clumsy one back. Even as he dropped his hand from the wave he saw iridescent yellow eyes staring through him.

Jack forced his head forward as Baby let him stand properly again, breaking the startling eye contact. Something about that man was _interesting,_ be it his skin color, taste in beverages, the strange accent hinting in his sinfully low voice, or his eyes. Even not looking at him, he felt the eyes burning into the back of his skull, unable to unsee them in his mind.

“Thanks Jacky, I’ll split the tips with you.” Baby brought him out of his mental musings, having led them back to the bar where she deposited empty glasses from earlier than night.

“Thanks, Baby.” He smiled sincerely. She raised a fine eyebrow at him, as though sensing the twirling thoughts dancing around in his head, but returned his smile.

“You should check the roulette, I think Anna came in.”

“Oh boy, better not let her wait.” Jack flashed a boyish grin, spinning his tray again. Baby giggled, brushing her skirt down.

“Not for her favorite snowflake, nope!” Baby teased, grinning toothily over at him with a playful gleam in her hazel eyes. Jack laughed more audibly at that, still sounding hushed with the loud expanse of the bar. “Get going, go on!”

Jack bounced on his feet across to the large moonlit roulette table he’d become increasingly familiar with. This table in particular was always one to house the regulars, and a crowd of people to watch the wheel spin under the watchful eyes of the employee. Jack spoke with him a few times as they cleaned up the place after work, mostly about the night’s events and how much of a mess some patrons made. His hair was tugged back into an odd curl in the back, and the color of a bright flame seeming misplaced in the cool colored casino. His eyes were almost always hooded mysteriously in the light, and he left the talking to the patrons and not so much himself, aside from his calls of ‘no more bets’. Jack’s approach just made the chatter switch as a woman’s voice called him.

“Oh Jack! There you are,” the woman beamed up at him as Jack came around to her side of the table. Toothiana was always dressed in a bright, shimmering and sleek dress that showed off her slight form. Her skin was tanned by nature as well as her short, black hair always spiking backwards, adorned with hair clips of gold. She reminded Jack a lot of the other servers in their uniforms, but she was a work of art on her own. “I thought you might’ve taken the night off, but silly me to think you’d take a break.”

“Hi, Miss Toothiana. Nope, I’m still here all nights. Can’t have you miss a day without my smile, right?”

“I told you Anna or Tooth is just fine for you to call me, Snowflake! You’re not this formal to your other ladies, are you?” He could see her grey eyes dart to his mouth before back up his face. She was weak to his smile, always.

“Let’s call it a habit,” He smiles and gives a shrug, not sure how he managed to keep the formalities up. He tried to at least say hello to his patrons with the titles, but they were dropped soon after. “Pick your poison for tonight?” Jack changed the subject with the shoot of another smile, seeing Tooth just wilt into her chair in front of him. Jack was definitely the favorite to many of the girls that he served, but none would surpass Anna.

“Ah…tonight I think I’ll take a drink of Paradise, thank you Jack.” She smiled shyly up at him, as he gave a mock salute. The others at the table shouted off a few more drinks as he took them into account, fleeting to Bunny and back quickly. Returning to the roulette table always sparked a new conversation of Tooth’s. She could talk for hours, and in fact, she did. All the days Tooth came in she had new stories from her trips abroad, her job, articles her friends had written, magazines, shows— her knowledge was boundless. Jack would find himself lingering at the table for longer than he should, only see Baby passing by with a wave, finally shaking him into some sense to excuse himself from the table and let them play.

“No more bets,” the fiery haired lad, Copper, called nonchalantly, breaking Jack from hearing Tooth’s tales of New York. The wheel spun and, sure enough, Toothiana won again. Jack applauded her before taking her empty glass.

“Another Paradise?”

“Jack, you know you can bring me all the paradise you like,” She giggled, giddy and causing Jack’s cheeks to flush scarlet. He laughed regardless, returning to the bar. Toothiana was intoxicated within the hour, and hailed a ride back to her place with another gentleman Jack had seen her play with for a few nights. She gave Jack a wink before being whisked away, careful to not stagger on her heels.

It was past two in the morning now, and the bar filtered in a few more groups of new people, most already intoxicated and looking to blow their money. The rest of the place was always filled with their regulars, the ones that often stayed until the establishment had to close. It was quiet time right now, most of them knowing that to keep on their game, the drinks needed to stop coming, and to take their winnings from not-so-smart players. It was common on the poker and blackjack tables, since the servers stopped going back there at this hour.

Jack finally got off his feet by hopping up onto a bar stool. Aster was cleaning a glass, and Baby flitted onto the seat next to him.

“Rough night, sugar?”

“Hm? I got pockets full, but it was pretty busy.”

“You’re telling me, the poker games were awful but they still wanted to drink. Like that’d get ‘em lucky.” She grins and Jack let out a chuckle. Aster ignored them. They let the silence hang for a bit, Jack getting a glass of water from around the counter when Bunny wasn’t looking, gulping it down hurriedly.

“So, that table from earlier, playing Poker, are they regulars?”

“Oh, Sandy is always there. He’s quiet, but plays a fierce hand. I hear talk he’s won the most in this place since it opened.” Baby remarked, hands on her knees and swinging her legs in a bored fashion.

“Wow,” Jack nodded, entranced. “He’s pretty good then. What about the uh, other guy?”

“Which guy?” She looked at Jack, an eyebrow raised.

“Tall, dark, and ominous.” Jack retorted, and her face lit up with laughter.

“I have no idea, never seen him before.” She shrugged. Jack heard Aster put glasses back on the shelf with a gruff.

“Guy with the Black Velvet, yeah?” He muttered. Jack and Baby both looked over their shoulders before spinning their seats in synchronized fascination.

“Yeah, him.” Jack nodded. Aster rolled his eyes at their attention, propping his foot back on the shelf and looking over the towel in his hands.

“He used to come get that drink here at the bar, then flight around. Weird bloke. I heard Copper talk that he frequents a blackjack table. Probably why you never saw him at the poker before.” He shrugged, uninterested. It made Jack anything but.

“So, he’s a regular. Who works the blackjack tables?”

“Soph does that section,” Baby looked at Jack, seeming just as intrigued. “You wanna ask?”

“What for? He’s just a weirdo going around intimidatin’ fellas into blowin’ their money in a bet.” Aster grumbled, but Jack had already hopped off his stool.

“Why not? I’m supposed to learn all the regulars here, right?” Jack didn’t make a comment he’d been there for a few months already, but how hadn’t he noticed that man before? Baby hopped off and went around the other side of the bar that Sera was stationed at, mixing up some smoothie for someone. Jack followed her along until they got to the similar station on that side, where a blonde young woman, hair in a pony tail but still covering one of her eyes stood, counting bills.

“Hey, Sophie,” Baby waved as they approached. Sophie smiled and waved back. She was small, but very cute, especially with the pink she wore with her outfit. Jack figured that worked in her favor, in some parts. She looked younger than Jack too, but he knew better.

“Hi. What brings you to this side of the bar?” She teased, her voice light and airy.

“Jackie wants to know about one of your regulars. He knows a lot of them, but not this one.” Baby interlocked her fingers, as if she had to beg for the information. Sophie looked up at Jack, eyes brimming with curiosity.

“Who?”

“I called him tall, dark and ominous. Bunny says he’s usually at Blackjack, he was at Poker today.” Jack put his hands in his pockets. He didn’t want to seem too enthralled to hear everything that could be heard from the other servers. Baby was his source of information, and yet she didn’t even know what happened on this side of the casino. Sophie’s face twisted up into a pout, and she put her tips back into her apron pocket.

“That guy. Yeah, He’s a pro at the blackjack. He suckers new kids into playing so he can make ‘em broke. He buys them drinks all the time too, especially the guys that are way too cocky. He plays nice guy but he’s real bad, what he does to people.”

“Well, it _is_ a casino. Not everyone comes here and gets rich.” Jack defended. Baby and Sophie looked at him like he’d grown another head.

“It sounds awful, tricking them like that.” Baby frowned, crossing her arms. Sophie nodded.

“Yeah. Everyone calls him Pitch Black. He stays in the dark part of the place. He’d smoke all the time back there, and when Kat told him to not do it he freaked out on her. All the other girls are afraid to serve him, so I do it.”

“Not easily scared, huh?” Baby remarked, grinning. It seemed to Jack that she knew of the time Sophie mentioned.

“My older brother told me to face my fears, so yeah.  I used to want to switch his Guinness with something less expensive, but he always caught it. Manny told me and Sera to knock it off.” She grinned mischievously. Jack laughed at that a little; especially when he noticed the dark, curly haired women on the other side of the counter get a large grin on her face. “I don’t know much else, no one seems to. He sure likes to hear himself talk though.”

“What a weirdo.” Baby sighed. Jack chuckled but nodded, unable to shake the view of golden eyes from the back of his eyelids.  Baby elbowed him as she looked around the corner of the bar. “Hey Jacky, we better get back, empty glasses.”

“Right. Thanks, Sophie.”

“No problem. Have fun with him on your side,” She grinned, grabbing her tray and going to check for glasses just as Baby led Jack back. Jack covered the roulette again, having filtered in with new guests once Tooth had departed. Clearing was easy, and convincing them to get a refill was just as simple. Bunny mixed his drinks quickly, seeming pleased to have something to do aside from clean glasses. While he waited for the drinks, Baby practically appeared by his side with a hand on his arm.

“Jack!”

“Whoa baby, you startled me.” Jack made a mocking voice. She blushed faintly but it was gone with a laugh, patting his arm again.

“Sure that gets you plenty of numbers at the end of the night.” She rolled her eyes, and Jack beamed at her, accepting her false praise. She huffed and put away the glasses in the cleaning bin. “Oh, I was gonna tell you. The elusive Pitch Black just asked about you.” Jack whirled around to look at her, and saw her grinning.

“Hey now, it’s rude to tease.”

“No no, I’m serious! He said—to me, I couldn’t believe it—he said: So, where did that white-haired friend of yours go?” She straightened her face, though it made her eyes cross. Jack chuckled at the sight, and her horrible attempt to mimic the deep silky voice. God, he needed to stop focusing on the adjectives he could use to describe it.

“And?” He fed her need to explain, though his eye rolling went unnoticed.

“Well, I said: He was just helping me get your drinks, he goes to the roulettes to serve. And he was all huffing and stuff, but didn’t want another drink. Nutjob, right?” Baby propped her chin up on the counter with her fist. Jack nodded, arranging his drink glasses on his tray evenly.

“Yeah, he’s bonkers alright.” He lifted the tray, seeing Baby’s eyes follow his up.

“What, not even a little intrigued by that?” _Yes,_ Jack admitted, but shook his head.

“Well, it’s hard to miss the kid with the white hair, right?” He smiled, but headed back onto the floor exactly where Baby told Pitch he served. He handed out the drinks, listening to Copper call another round and more chips being passed around the board. He was entranced by the games and how fingers could dance around poker chips and all eyes watch the spinning wheel. Tooth had offered to teach him to play a few times, but it seemed far too based on luck for him to stand a chance. First things first, he’d learn to juggle some glasses and mix some drinks. Nothing sounded more fun to be paid for, except maybe getting paid to build snowmen and roll around all day. He bottled the free-spiritedness and need to be outside within himself while he worked every day, chanting to himself it’d be worth it to pay off his classes. Then he could afford to take a day off.

Hours passed and the clock on the wall ticked closer to five. The sun was going to rise shortly, and that meant the casino was going to shut for the night. The hotel attached to the back of the casino, run by the same owner, also locked their doors at five-thirty, to make sure no one else could wander inside. Dallying after closing hours wasn’t really looked high upon, after all. Jack finally spent his time counting out his tips, trading in some ones for larger bills. He’d done well for a Thursday evening, and was more than pleased with the amount. Once he wrapped it up in a rubber band, Baby dropped onto a stool by him.

“Make a killing?”

“Pretty good, you?”

“Good too. Oh, here, I got this for you.” She dug in her pockets, handing him a twenty. He raised an eyebrow.

“That table gave you that much?”

“Nope, Mister Black gave _you_ that much.” She winked and forcefully put it into his palm. Jack raised an eyebrow as she closed his fist and gave it a pat.

“What’re you teasing about now?”

“No teasin’, I went over and them boys gave me a few tips, and then he stopped me and said ‘give this to the boy, for helping you out.’ So now I did.” Her mock voice was pathetic once more, and Jack pursed his lips.

“Odd.”

“Odd? I’d say so. I think Tooth isn’t the only one you’ve got wrapped around your frosty finger.” She nudged Jack again, drawing a forced laugh.

“Whatever you say, Baby.”

“Last call for bets,” Copper’s voice carries from across the floor, the bar having cleared and made the room mostly silent. Jack looked around and saw the place clearing swiftly, the patrons going across the floor to cash in their chips. His eyes caught when he met the mysterious gaze from across the room at the poker table, staring at him intently. Jack’s breath caught, bright azures entrapped by the man not even within fifty feet of him. He could barely make out the slight smirk on his face, before the dealer made last call and the game continued. He shuffled away, collecting glasses that were forgotten on edges of tables across the room, returning to the server stand quickly.

Copper waved off the rest of the crowd, turning the light for the roulette wheel off and the card dealers took in their final calls. Guests began waiting in line to cash their chips, most with hotel rooms wishing to get through the line faster. Jack and the girls went around picking up obvious pieces of trash and abandoned glasses, the dealers finding vacuums and towels to wipe off the countertops. Sera and Aster had long been cleaning their bar counter and simply waited for the last of the dishes. The servers all hovered around their stations as well as the doors, making sure the guests could find their way out.

“Good night!” Baby waved to some of her regulars enthusiastically. Jack smiled, hands folded behind his back as he resisted yawning. A few of his patrons nodded to him in passing, and he called quiet ‘good nights’ to them, keeping a closed lipped smile on his face the whole time. Sanderson passed them, waving to both him and Baby without so much as a word, a few finely dressed men Jack hadn’t seen before following closely behind him. The others left their posts, going to clean up other parts of the facility, Jack following them as Aster locked the front door. He got the Windex and went to the back doors that led to the hotel elevators, given the doors would close any minute once Aster had finished his work. He finally released the yawn he’d been holding and sprayed the glass, wiping away a large handprint.

He heard soft steps, continuing to clean the glass as Aster approached. He was too tired and knew better than to tease Bunny this late in the shift, especially after that wallop comment.

“Good night,” Jack whirled around as a deep voice spoke very close next to him. Pitch grinned down at him, hands folded behind his back as he stood right at Jack’s side, next to the door. Jack swallowed, forcing himself to blink away from his eyes that locked on to the others. Now that he was standing, it was intimidating to see someone over a foot taller than himself.

“Good night, sir. And, er, thank you.”

“How articulate. Why thank me?” One wiry hand left the spot behind his back to pull the door open, but he didn’t step through. Jack took a breath, thinking about what he said before just blurting it out, this time.

“Thank you for the tip.”

“Ah, you’re welcome. I quite enjoyed being served by you this evening.” He gave another chuckle behind a closed lip grin, and Jack couldn’t resist raising an eyebrow. It was like he’d said something amusing, but he was unaware of his joke.

“Glad to be of service?” Jack couldn’t hold the sarcastic voice out from the undertone of his question. Pitch chuckled again but stepped through the door.

“As am I.” He broke his eye contact with Jack and let the door swing shut behind him, his soft steps barely heard as he went towards the hotel. Jack rubbed the back of his neck, thoroughly confused, until he heard more familiar, heavy steps.

“Don’t fall asleep already, frostbite.” Aster said in a gruff and tired voice, hands moving deftly to lock the door. Jack nodded and finished cleaning the window there.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, kangaroo.”

“Yer remindin’ me that I owe you a shiner, kid.” He grumbled as they both headed back to the main area of the Moonbeam, tables and chairs been set away as the vacuuming was being done. Aster disappeared to grab his coat, and Jack went in search for Baby to assist her. The sooner he got out of here, the sooner he could figure out what happened tonight at work.


	2. Chardonnay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friday nights are always known to have their rushes.

 

* * *

 

The next night started off with just as many fireworks as it did any night. The Moonbeam was alit with wonders and people poured in more readily after nine in the evening. Jack parked in the back of the hotel and headed through the staff door, not daring to pull in around the front of the crowded streets. He was running late and the manager and even Baby would have his head for it. He clambered out of the small space of his old Intrepid and pushed the door open with his shoulder, doing up buttons as he did. His dress shirt was slightly wrinkled but he clasped the sleeves up just above his elbows, hiding most of the creases. The buttons fumbled in his fingers as his hand went to tugging his vest on hurriedly, doing the buttons over his abdomen up as well. He probably looked like a mess after the long stay in his night class but hell, as long as he was in the door not a minute after nine he had time to clean up.

He tugged the bottom of his vest down, aligning it better and pushing the back office door open. There was a simple lounge, the room a bit of a lighter blue with white chairs and tables. He hopped to the back system and typed in his employee code with gusto.

Jackson Overland-Frost

Time in: 21:02

A slight curse left him, but the office was devoid of coworkers. He took the moment to straighten the collar of his powder blue button-up and run fingers through his wind-blasted hair. He praised himself for wearing his white slacks to class and even more that he’d managed to not make a mess of them. Without as much as a mirror to aid his appearance, he headed out to the bar floor. Friday was always a given to be one of the casino’s busiest days. Saturday was a constant rival with the amount of money the place took in, but the hotel was always sold out of rooms for miscellaneous guests wanting a good time.

Jack would say he rushed a bit faster than his normal working pace to get to the server’s station and grab a tray and apron. The others were running around much the same, many of the girls at the door persuading more customers in while bright lights from the games shined on. He got his tray and headed to the tables around his section of the floor.

“Hi ladies, can I get you anything?” Jack fluttered by an occupied countertop with four well-dressed women. Two of them glanced at Jack and resumed their musings, while the humblest of the group smiled up at him.

“One of the girls got our orders, but thank you!” She smiled sincerely. Jack smiled back and apologized shortly, leaving the area. Thankfully the girls seemed pleasant. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen customers get heated over something as simple as being asked a question by a second server. He made eyes with Baby from a few tables away, and she waved her arm over to him once away from a table. Jack went to her side immediately.

“Thanks, Baby.”

“No problem, we’re swamped honey. I’ve got Bunny mixing up all the people’s drinks here. Go hit the Roulette, I’ll handle these, okay?” She said, already walking back towards the bar.

“Okay, I’ll take their orders then come help you pass those out.”

“Thanks dear!” Baby didn’t even lock eyes with him before she was off again. Jack took a deep breath, inhaling the adrenaline rushing through the walls of the casino. It was a busy night, and he had to shake off the tiredness from a night of classes.

Time for Jack Frost.

He turned on his heel and took himself over to the main Roulette counter. Toothiana and many of her regular friends were playing, swarms of young onlookers and fans surrounding the counter. Copper was practically swallowed up by all the commotion, and Jack lightly asked the surrounding viewers to take a seat so he could get them a drink. Toothiana was in high conversation when Jack made it to her.

“Miss Toothiana, what’ll it be?” Jack smiled, gaining her undivided attention right away.

“Jack, pleasure to see you darling!” He was glad her voice carried or he may not have heard. “A mai-tai today, please!” Jack gave a thumbs up, memorizing the other table player’s orders before elbowing his way out of the growing crowd. He made it back to the bar, having jotted down many of the seated guest’s orders and reading off the next for the Roulette players. Aster grumbled at him but gave notice that he had it in his head, going down the list of drink concoctions that were asked of him.

Jack really needed to take a weekend off, to avoid all the stress. Then again, he never took days off, and the place being jam-packed just meant more money. He’d be lying if he said he let the stress distract him from the invigorated wave that crashed over him upon entering his stage.

The hours flew by as did the staff, serving with a smile and being as quick as they could. They were practically blurs of color in the dark designed room, but soon it drew the time where the drink orders slowed. Jack ran a hand through his hair as Bunny fixed up his last refills to the main roulette counter, letting out a tired breath. Baby hopped onto the stool closest to him and did much the same.

“Jeez, we were running our tails off.” She repositioned part of her brown hair. Jack chuckled and nodded.

“I hate night class on Fridays, I come in to the apocalypse.”

“I figured that’s why you weren’t here early. If it wasn’t so busy I would’ve told you that you looked like a mess.” Baby grinned and Jack instantly looked down. His blue button up was uneven over his waistband, part curled and unknowingly tucked into his pants. The buttons themselves stopped underneath his vest, his collar hanging open and showing off more pale skin than he realized. The vest itself had still managed to be on a bit sideways and he’d missed one of the buttons going up.

“Shit,” he fumbled to realign the vest. Baby chuckled.

“Just the bottom and the vest, Frosty. You look good showing as much cleavage as the rest of us.” She winked, drawing another chuckle from Jack.

“Well I guess everyone’s seen it already, can’t change it now. You could’ve told me I looked like an office dweeb with this tucked in.” he elbowed her, straightening said part of his uniform. She laughed again.

“I could’ve told you that your hair didn’t look like sex head, but I’d be lying. Drive like a maniac with the window down?”

“Hey, I tried flattening it. My hair just likes to defy gravity sometimes.”

“Sure, okay. Well I’m sure your pockets are full of tips from the lucky ladies and gents that saw you all disheveled.” She smiled at him as he stuck his tongue out at her.

“I remember when you had toilet paper on your shoe and—“

“Ohh, that’s below the belt!” She grimaced and gave a wary smile. Jack batted his eyelashes at her, raising the tray up onto his delicate fingers as Bunny placed his last drink order on it.

“Work your own tips…but thanks, for earlier.” Jack smiled and headed back to the table. Toothiana took her last drink from Jack and her friends got theirs from him as well, handing him a few rolled up bills for his troubles. Jack thanked them all repeatedly, clearing their empty glasses and hesitating to hear the end of Tooth’s story of Paris. He smiled and sauntered away as Copper called for no more bets, scanning the seated people. He took empty glasses, bantered, laughed and directed some lost and tired newcomers. It was easy to weave his way across his floor to the few roulette stations in the back of the room, their wheels not as illuminated as the big player one up front. It was quieter, most players just to play and not make the most intelligent of chatter with their opponents. He followed the wall around the corner to dodge a few large groups of stumbling patrons.

“Excuse me,” a low voice broke his fine rhythm of steps short. He turned and saw that at the back table of roulette, the darkest part for sure, sat a very familiar regular customer. Not regular to this area, however. Wiping the surprise from his face, Jack straightened and stood at his customer’s side.

“Evening, sir.” He nodded, not wanting to test a name he hadn’t been told himself. Pitch’s gold eyes brightened with their mirth, and skimmed across Jack. Jack of course saw this and tucked his tray under an arm, that motion catching the other’s eye instead of his partially exposed collar bone. “Can I get you anything? Not playing poker tonight?”

“No, not tonight. I decided to try something…new.” He glanced back at the board, waving a hand to excuse himself from this slow-paced round of roulette.

“I see,” Jack nodded, suddenly breathless and at a loss for words. _Goddammit,_ he chided himself, shoving aside words and phrases that would be inappropriate for someone he wasn’t familiar with even as a customer.

“I’ll have Chardonnay, whenever you could, Jack.” Jack looked back at the seated and still way-too-close-to-his-actual-height man and gave a nod, eyes caught in a staring match he could never win.

“Sure thing,” he cleared his throat, meekly asking around the table if anyone else required a drink. He kicked himself for resorting to acting like such a noob and being outshined just by one tall dark and ominous man that must have paid keen attention to knowing Jack’s name. He glanced over his shoulder once more, seeing Pitch grin in response but put in some chips for his next game, watching Jack walk to the bar while doing so.

Jack found his voice enough to tell Aster his order, propping his chin up on his palm. Baby was still hovering around the bar, locked in a conversation with another one of the servers Jack didn’t recognize. She noticed Jack and abandoned her for him, thankful.

“Looking sour there, Snowflake.” She stood next to him, mimicking how he stood. Jack tossed a grin at her and straightened, realizing how petulant he must look.

“Yeah. Guess who I just found in my station,” Jack ground out as if annoyed, a tugging feeling inside him denying it. Baby’s eyes widened and darted around the floor, supposedly seeing something. Jack glanced over too and definitely saw the faintest flicker of golden eyes in their direction.

“Jesus, you have a serious stalker.” She chuckled and elbowed him. Jack screwed his mouth up into a mix of a pout and a scowl, knowing it was just a cover for the heat he felt overtaking his cheeks.

“Please. You told him my name and that I worked in the roulette, and there he is.”

“Sta-lker!” She singsonged in her soprano. Jack chuckled anyways, relaxing at the lovely tone.

“Maybe fan.” Jack humored her. She laughed again, turning away from the roulettes.

“I’m sure Sophie is really glad that she’s not dealing with him tonight. Blackjack is a mess.”

“Well, maybe that’s why he went to Roulettes tonight,” Jack hummed, thinking of reasons. Baby chuckled again, obviously not believing it.

“Maybe he went over there because of how disheveled you are.”

“Shut up!” Jack slapped her arm as nicely as he could, feeling his face heat again. Aster brought him the glass of wine, eyes narrowing at the two of them.

“Don’t you two have work to do instead of gossiping?”

“Gossip, us? Aster, please!” Baby intertwined her fingers and batted her eyelashes, showing off her flame red eyeshadow. The Australia rolled his eyes and waved them off, going back to his bartending. Jack smiled and lifted his tray up.

“Work those tips, Frosty!” Baby clapped her hands as he took a step away, making them both bust up in some laughs, Jack holding the tray with two hands just in case.

“Damn straight. You should work yours instead of sitting on your ass!” He winked at her and headed back to the corner. The wheel was spinning but Jack wasn’t paying attention to the attendant as he set the wine glass down as gently as he could. “Here you are, sir.” He added the customer-service drawl into his voice. Pitch smiled up at him.

“Thank you. You can call me Pitch, by the way.”

“Mr. Black, then.” Jack nodded resolutely. His tongue caught in his throat when he saw the expression Pitch gave him. “Uh…Sophie, at Blackjack. Mentioned you. Before.”

“Did she now,” He didn’t smile, but Jack could tell just from his tone and the look in his eye he was amused. Jack nodded, biting his cheek and hoping he didn’t look flustered as well as disheveled. “Pray tell what she said?”

“She said you’re horrible.” He said the words, honesty something liquid in his nature.

“At Blackjack?” Pitch didn’t seem affected, taking a drink from his glass.

“No. Just horrible.”

“Ah, then perhaps she is bright.” Jack frowned and glanced over at him again, still seeing indifference just wafting from him.

“I think you’re just trying to make everyone in this place dislike you. Make yerself some infamous guy.” Jack blurted out again, the game progressing and all eyes were on the wheel. Pitch grinned in his peripheral, but didn’t look away, except down to collect his winnings.

“Perhaps not everyone.” He sat back again, waving a hand to dismiss himself from another spin. Jack watched everyone else blatantly ignore them, as if the wave of the hand had made them invisible. “I’d be willing to gamble this place could use a little infamy. Don’t you think, Jack?”

“I think people lose enough money here on their own without someone hustling them.” Jack wore a frown and glanced back over to the patron, who, if possible, grinned even wider.

“You don’t fancy a gamble?”

“I’m not a player.”

“I’m sure that can be fixed. You’re bright enough to know how to play a game.”

“Hey, Jack!” Jack lifted his eyes and saw Toothiana, stumbling, tipsy, and overly exuberant waving at him. “C’mon cutie, say goodbye before I gotta run!”

“Think about it, Jack. I can teach you how to play all kinds of games. That’ll pay off your school, wouldn’t it?”

Jack’s eyes widened in shock and his mouth twisted into a horrified grimace. He shuffled away from the table quickly, hands following the rim of his tray erratically.

Baby definitely didn’t tell him that. Was it just obvious? It had to be a shot in the dark. Still, he forced a bright smile back on his face as Tooth stumbled over and gave him a hug.

“You work too hard, dear! I’ll be old by the time I don’t see you working here.”

“Probably, Miss Toothiana. Do you need me to call you a cab?” Jack smiled, accepting her hug with as much indifferent grace he could, steadying her without appearing too friendly.

“I, well, I had Sera call my ride for me, dear, you’re too sweet though.” She patted him on the shoulders, and Jack smiled as he realized it was more or less to make sure she stayed upright. He wondered how she had the ability to even get to that side of the bar when she could have called anyone over.

“Okay, stay safe, Miss Toothiana. Gotta see your smiling face when I come to work too, you know.” The eastern woman laughed loudly, inebriated and earnest.

“Willll do, Jack. See you tomorrow!” She stepped away with her couple of girl friends, blushing as they giggled about something.

“You’ll have to take a day off sometime, too!” He waved them off, returning to the server’s stand and quietly observing so they made it out safely. Once they made it past Phil, the door man, he knew they’d be in good hands. Baby watched silently next to him, depositing dirty glasses into the bin.

“So, how’d your talk with tall dark and way-too-into-you go?” she said after a long enough pause. Jack snorted in his throat, the beginning of a chuckle he wouldn’t let escape.

“It was fine.”

“Fine?”

“Yeah. What else would it be?” Jack glanced over towards her, finally making himself comfortable enough to lean over the counter. Baby smiled at him, once more mimicking his positioning. Screw looking petulant, Jack’s mind was swimming with thoughts not involving his stature.

“What’d he say?” She asked, shifting her weight to another foot so she could say it under her breath to Jack without being obvious. Bunny already dismissed himself to the other end of the counter to give Nick a drink. Jack hummed in his throat, debating on what to tell her. The truth obviously won out.

“I ended up mentioning that I heard his name from Sophie. I said he was a horrible hustler and he asked me to play a game with him.” Jack shrugged. Baby raised a delicate eyebrow.

“Like, cards?”

“I assume he’d just want to rob me of my money, you know.” Jack offered and Baby slowly nodded, realization dawning on her.

“Oh. Weird, you think he’d be satisfied making our customers broke, let alone the employees.” Baby grumbled, twirling a ring on her painted fingers. Jack shrugged too.

“I’m not exactly itching to find out.” He said lowly. _Liar,_ he accused to himself, but resisted turning around to see who was in the distance behind him.

“I bet if you found out you could get Manny to kick him out.” Baby nudged him a few times. “On top of him harassing us, you know.”

“I’m not that big of a dick, babe.” He smiled at her. “Manny would rather get on my ass about being two minutes late.”

“Ouch, good luck with that. But if it’s real busy today he probably won’t be paying attention.” Baby nodded, her eyes drifting to the room behind all the rows of slot machines. The office was left alone, given most employees came through the staff entrance connected to the hotel. That way had room for them to sit around if they had break time, as well as a more reliable computer system to clock into. Alternatively, the office was left alone for the boss alone to sit within, always watching the workings of the casino inside and out. While he was nice when Jack met him on his first day, he hadn’t been given the time of day to speak with him afterwards, nor needed to.

“Perks of being filthy rich, huh.” Jack smiled back to her, looking away from the closed office doors. Baby nodded and stood, running her fingers through her bangs.

“Right. Better go clear more tables before he sees me _sitting on my ass.”_ She jeered at Jack, emitting a giggle. The two servers split paths, Baby going back to Poker that had long since cleared of the very drunk patrons. Jack made himself busy around the tables Baby had covered for him earlier in the evening, wiping them off of the most miniscule crumbs and droplets. He felt eyes on him again, though he told himself it was the paranoia. He helped rid some of Copper’s roulette players of empty glasses and taking his time cleaning up. He’d squandered away plenty of time and made all his clear tables spotless and glittering like they were intended to be under the choice lighting. After readying himself for far too long, he straightened and glanced back at the back corner. The players had vacated aside from a handful, and he was unsurprised to see his newest regular still there. He stepped around and took the empty wine glass from where it was next to said patron.

“Thank you, Jack.” Pitch smiled and glanced over at the server. Jack nodded shortly and set it on his tray among the other empty glassware. “Give it any thought while you disinfected that table four times?” Jack withheld a glare, only just, at the customer next to him. Curse his observation skills.

“I don’t gamble, sir. Just serve.” He decided the formality would drop the subject. It didn’t work.

“You’d like a good thrill though, wouldn’t you? I’m not asking you to dinner, I’m just offering to show you the ropes to cards.”

“I played Blackjack with my grandma. I lost a lot and figured it’s not good for me to make it a hobby.” Jack retorted, hearing the low chuckle in the seat by him. A smile crept onto his own face, but he held back looking at Mr. Black and giving him the satisfaction. “And don’t even say you can teach me to beat my grandma, she’s dead.” Pitch Black went silent with Jack, and they both peered from the corner of their eyes at each other. Jack burst into a fit of laughter, eliciting a few more sultry chuckles from the player.

“Such dark humor, Jack. Hardly befitting for someone as bright as you.”

“Bright? You don’t even know me, Mr. Black.” Jack ran his fingers around the rim of his tray as the two men focused their eyes on the spinning wheel. Pitch hadn’t entered this round either, leaving it a quiet victory for one of the customers still at the table.

“Does not mean I haven’t been trying.” Pitch sounded almost whiny with his remark, just bringing another grin to Jack’s face. Jack found himself distracted as Pitch placed some chips into the next game, choosing for the next spin. He watched as the wheel spun under Jamie’s fingers (he’d remembered his name) and more chips than he’d placed were pushed towards the shadowy man, who didn’t so much as crack a smile.

“Congrats,” Jack said after some hesitation. That elicited a small grin.

“Roulette is nothing but luck. Seems I’ve had a good luck charm tonight.” Jack raised an eyebrow but tried his best to put forth a guise of indifference as he felt eyes on him again. “Any plans after work tonight?” Pitch didn’t waste time. Jack frowned and glanced back over at him.

“Going home and sleeping.”

“Not improving your card playing skills?” Pitch smirked, unsettlingly giving Jack a good view of his teeth that shined under the selective lighting.  He swallowed hard as he found his eyes roaming around the other man’s intriguing face, thick neck, the hint of his collar showing under a loosely tied golden tie…

“Nope.”

“Shame. I wish you’d give it a chance, Jack. No funny business, just a game of cards.” Pitch seemed to add that last line a bit too eagerly, as if reading Jack’s suspicion.

“What makes you think I’d want to play cards with a hustler?” Jack sharpened his words into a lower voice, as if someone would hear. It only made the other’s smirk widen.

“Danger, Jack. The adrenaline. You’re practically buzzing with it in this place. I’d wager you go home and hardly sleep you’re so wired and _insatiable_.”

“I’d wager you’d bet on anything that’d get you a dollar.”

“And you said you weren’t one for gambling,” He smirked as Jack’s lips turned into a frown. “That’s why I’m so good at playing games.” Pitch’s voice, if possible, took a tone even lower than his average, shiver-inducing one. “I promise you’ll enjoy yourself, gambling has its addictive qualities if you aren’t smart. You’re smart, Jack, if you weren’t you’d be as fragile as though little server girls that call me horrible.” Jack licked his lips before they got too dry.

“I can’t.” He said, inwardly cursing at his voice coming out nothing short of weak. Pitch smiled again and stood, collecting his chips in the provided cases from the casino. He’d obtained quite a small fortune in his time tonight, enough to make Jack rethink his choice of earning money for school.

Wait, no, what was he thinking?

Pitch gave a tilt of his head and Jack’s feet followed him, over to the counter to cash in. Jack hardly paid any mind that he was still carrying a nearly full tray of empty glassware of assorted sizes. He was just focused on keeping up with the tall form weaving through the casino like he owned the place. Jack wasn’t sure why he was still following him across the floor, this area not really within his watch, but something continued to compel him beyond the simple beckoning gesture. Pitch set his container full of chips on the counter. A short, nameless young man with a high-collared, pinstriped shirt took the container and headed to the back to begin counting. Jack finally glanced up at Pitch curiously.

“Best tend to your dishes, right?” Pitch smiled down at him, also moving his eyes down Jack’s arm to where he held the full tray. Jack let a scowl cross his face before spinning on a heel, retreating back to the bar station. He grumbled under his breath as he deposited his glasses a bit louder than he would’ve liked.

“Geez, you’re pissed.” He flinched as Baby, of course, was never far. He shrugged.

“I’m fine.”

“Fine, yeah right. What happened?” Baby tried to make eye contact, though Jack turned away as his tray was empty.

“Just talking. He’s a real prick.” Jack grinned a little, knowing it was infectious. Baby smiled back.

“Oh yeah, people being pricks is what makes Jacky Frost pissy?”

“You know I can’t stand stupidity.” Jack elbows her. “But I keep you around anyway, in case I need a makeover.”

“Aw, like your eyes could need anything to make them prettier.” She pinched Jack’s cheek. Jack huffed and slapped the back of her hand away. “You might look good with some eye shadow. Or maybe eyeliner.”

“Please, Tyra, I’m fierce enough.” He swatted her prodding fingers away until she was laughing again.

“Doesn’t make you a top model!” She nudged him until the two of them were practically pushing each other over. Jack chuckled a little under the giggling of Baby as he poked her on the sides, the spot she was especially ticklish. A harsh ‘thwap’ on the back of his head forced him to stand at attention, hand to the spot.

“Ouch!” He glared over the counter where Aster was holding a twisted hand towel.

“And ya say ya hate stupidity. Get to work, will ya?” The Australian glared through Jack. Baby crossed her arms over her chest, though she was unscathed from their bout.

“C’mon, Aster. The place is practically dead.”

“Oh yea?” He pointed a finger to the door, where throes of laughing suit-and-ties entered. Baby outwardly groaned while Jack fixed his ‘sex hair’ the slightest bit. “Get crackin’, party is starting late.” Baby mumbled but gave Jack another shove, teetering him off-balance as she headed to the door to escort some of the groups. Jack rolled his eyes but watched as varying numbers of suits split up. Many crossed the other side of the bar, while Baby and others lead more to Poker and slot machines. Jack came up to another group that was wandering around roulette counters and bare tables.

“Hey guys,” Jack waved, approaching with his tray spinning on his fingers. The group of seven or so finely dressed men looked over, smiling as they saw the trick. “Fancy some roulette? The counter back there is pretty clear. Plenty of room for you all to take a load off.” He tilted his chin over to the darkened corner, unsurprised that his ‘stalker’ was no longer there.

“What you guys think?”

“Sure, why not.”

“We want some drinks before I make you all broke?” The youngest of the seven said, getting some ‘ohs’ from his pals. The low drone of surprise was broken up by laughter as the men took their chairs. Jamie smiled at Jack, who nodded. Monitoring a game with no players was boring, he was sure.

“I’ll take any drink orders you guys can give me,” Jack tossed in as most chatting had turned quiet and among two or three of them. They nodded dispondently, the youngest of them all smiling back up at Jack. He swallowed a little at the hooded look, but stood at the ready. “I’m Jack, so just call if you think of anything.”

“Thanks, Jack.” The youngest responded, if not a bit eagerly. Jack nodded, heading back around to other tables where smaller groups of businessmen not interested in playing were seated.

“So, where’d you guys all come from?” Jack asked after memorizing some drink orders. “You know, a lot of people coming in a huge group at three in the morning isn’t something you see every night.” He asked a group of three men, at least in their mid thirties.

“We’re all here for a big conference. Come from the same branch.”

“We fly back at seven, figured we might as well stay up all night.” The man across from the first finished. Jack nodded, still smiling warmly.

“Oh man, well at least you chose to come here to get drunk before flying away.” Jack smiled brighter as the three men laughed. Their conference and late-night adventure was definitely already making them louder and jovial. Jack waved himself away from their tableside and returned to the bar. Bunny was already mixing up drinks for the other servers, and Jack waited a moment before listing off his items.

“Gimme a few, I gotta refill the tap a-fuckin-gain.” He pulled a tap lever before heading around the other side of the bar. Jack leaned back on the counter, drumming his fingers.

“Hey, Jack?” he turned suddenly, straightening himself up and swallowed hard. The younger, cocky member from his table of seven was standing by him, if not a bit too close. “I guess I do want to make an order.”

“Sure, what can I get you? Bunny will be right back.” He thumbed over to the corner the bartender disappeared around.

“Oh, I can just wait for…” He glanced at the space behind Jack, where the server already heard Bunny coming back to his station. “I was wondering, could I get a Bud, and your number?” Jack raised an eyebrow, flattening his lips out. Everything in him wanted to laugh, but that was hardly appropriate for a response.

“Has that one worked for you before?” Surely that wasn’t completely appropriate either, but it made the other, slightly taller man laugh a little.

“Well, can’t say I’ve tried. If you don’t swing-“

“It’s cool man, I’m just-“ He shrugged a little, noticing Bunny giving him a look from across the counter. “Not really interested. Sorry.”

“Right, that’s, okay. Cool.” The man gave an awkward thumbs up. Jack smiled back and a clink on the table drew their eyes over to the bartender.

“Bud, right? All I got is bottles.” The aussie said plainly, showing no sign that he’d heard the exchange. The man quietly thanked him and took the glass bottle.

“Thanks,” he nodded to Jack and headed back to the roulette. Bunny and Jack glanced at each other for half a second before Bunny was back to making up Jack’s drinks.

“Popular tonight,” the bartender mumbled as he set the first few on his tray. Jack nodded and shrugged simultaneously.

“It’s just busy. The girls probably got plenty of numbers.” He watched and Bunny mixed the alcohol, once again wishing he could learn. _Soon_ , he thought.

“I guess.” Aster finished the drink and set it on Jack’s tray. He picked it up and nodded just as indifferently. “But you do look good, tonight. For the record.” Jack opened his mouth to retort until he saw Bunny wasn’t smiling his usual trickster grin at him. “Lots of my, uh, customers here, I hear what they’re talking about. You look good.

“Bunny, this thing is stuck again!” Sera’s alto came across the corner. Bunny bit his bottom lip and headed around quickly, away from Jack. The white-haired server was still standing, curious at where the comment had come from. He sighed and returned to his table, feeling the smile become a little forced with his confusion. What could one day of an unbuttoned shirt collar and messy hair matter?

“Thanks, boy.” The three thanked him to varying degrees. He just nodded and dismissed himself from their talk as soon as he could. The sudden urge to walk around the floor overtook him, and his feet carried him back over to the collection counter. He swallowed hard as he walked, trying to not appear obviously looking for someone. He still felt himself surprised when he saw Pitch leaning against one of the pillars around the back, tossing a Zippo in his fingers. Jack approached slowly.

“Sudden rush, wasn’t there?” Pitch remarked, glancing up at him as he pulled a cigarette from his suit pocket. Jack nodded, watching long fingers delicately light the end and bring it to his bow lips.

“You can’t smoke in here.” Jack remarked, knowing it wasn’t of much use. The blackjack player shrugged, and Jack couldn’t help but watch how it was odd, seeing his shoulders move even underneath the expensive attire.

“Stop me, why don’t you?” Pitch crossed one leg over the other, causing his height to diminish just slightly. Jack swallowed hard, eyes trailing up his form. _Shit he has nice legs._ He shook his head visibly to rid himself of the thought and closed the distance between them. He reached up and plucked the cig out from between smirking lips. Jack licked his own distractedly before stubbing out the stick on his tray. Pitch let out a puff of smoke off to the side, though the smell was still lingering around them. “Well, I think I’ll be going.”

“You should, before Phil throws you out.” Jack took a step back and Pitch rose to his full height again.

“Wouldn’t that be dreadful,” the dark man remarked, but slipped his lighter back into his pocket. “So then, tomorrow?”

“I never agreed to anything.” Jack frowned again, drawing his eyebrows together to further promote his distaste. Pitch just chuckled. He fumbled with something else in his pocket aside from the lighter, pulling out a roll of green. Jack watched him for a few moments until a folded bill was handed to him.

“For your troubles,” Pitch smiled as Jack peeled it out from between his fingers. His eyes widened as he realized the numbers on the corner of the paper.

“Pitch-“ Jack lifted his chin up to fully look at the patron, but he’d already moved around his side. He moved to turn and follow him, but Pitch placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Pocket change, when you learn how to play a good hand.” The hand on his shoulder slipped lower, running over his back. Jack’s breath caught in his throat, but once it reached his lower back, he lurched forward. He whirled around to see Pitch standing alert, hands behind his back innocently with a grin that was anything but. “Think about it. Tomorrow would be better, perhaps?”

Jack sputtered uselessly for a few moments, but Pitch had already rounded the corner to lead him back to the hotel doors. He mumbled and shuffled to a garbage can, brushing the cigarette into the bin as it was definitely put out. Jack wiped off a table for a moment, mind racing but no complete thoughts coming forth to him. _What? Why? Is he-_  He opened his clenched palm while the other wiped circles into the table. He unfolded the one hundred dollar bill gracefully, as if it’d slip through his fingers if it wasn’t treated like royalty.

He let out a breath to ease his muscles. The bill was crisp, definitely just from the collection booth of the casino. Even more, he brushed his thumb over the daintily ripped sheet of parchment nestled in the center of the bill. In a well-penned script were a ten digit number, and a four digit one below that. Jack didn’t need to think too hard to know that the hotel had enough floors to need that many digits.

“OH! Money where your mouth is!” Jack stuffed the papers into his pocket as the noise from the back roulette counter reached his ears. He smiled and returned to servicing his customers, bringing them another round of drinks courtesy of their winnings. 


	3. Shots, Sangrias, and Gambles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack works the long Saturday shift, pressing through the business class that won't give him the time of day. There's one that seems to, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this has been in the works for nearly two months. Enjoy

* * *

 

Jack worked the full shift on Saturdays, and as much as he liked his job, it was taxing.

Instead of coming in at nine, he entered at six on the dot. His hair was the slightest bit damp from a rushed shower and only dried from the wind blowing through his car window. As he punched in and laced the server apron around his waist, he slipped back into the employee bathroom. It was probably the only room that was expected to be porcelain white, but in true Moonbeam Casino spontaneity, all bathrooms in the establishment were black. It hurt his eyes walking in, but let the door click shut behind him as he stood in front of the mirror.

 _Hair, too messy._ He ran his fingers through it, brushing the stray hairs blown carelessly around in the wind to a more natural position. As natural as his hairstyle could be, at least. Once he’d gotten it in a semi-presentable status, he looked himself over again. _Too formal._ His hand carded over the crown of his head and through his hair, destroying the careful placing of hairs. Magically, it was the right level of messy and chaotic, without being frizzy. He didn’t even know what Baby classified as sex hair, but it sure looked great, or maybe he was a little too proud of his hair.  He smiled a lopsided grin at himself. _Perfect._

Next, he smoothed his hands down the glimmering suit vest, not a button out of place this time. His undershirt was the same: freshly washed and ironed, this time he let his sleeves stay crisp all the way down just past his wrists. He straightened the collar a little, forgoing the company tie as per usual, and fingers ghosting over the top. His thumb plucked away a few buttons and he straightened the top again, showing his collar like the night before. _Call it an experiment._ He turned slightly, making sure there wasn’t another wrinkle or button out of place; call him a perfectionist after the sham of the night before. He didn’t want anyone thinking he was sloppy, or a bad employee for that matter. The job was necessary, and even if it took a couple extra moments of staring into a mirror like Narcissus, he’d do it.

With one more glance to make sure his phone was silent, he slipped it back into his pocket. His fingers brushed over torn parchment and he inhaled carefully, making sure it stayed deep in the confines of his slacks. He didn’t have the courage to add the number to his phone, but he didn’t have the balls to throw it out, either. _I’d be surprised if he didn’t come in again tonight._ Jack mused before exiting the darkened bathroom and making his way across the deep navy casino floor.

The casino was bustling with laughter as the more well-known players frequented during this time. The night brought the characters that were popular as well as regular, but the evenings and weekends brought professionals, businessmen, and other connoisseurs.  While the girls flaunted, laughed with them, and made their tips: Jack was much the opposite. The laughter always sounded too fake, forced, and operated. The late-night shift meant drinks and drinks meant unadulterated humor and fun. Everything about this time made the noises sound like a ruse and he hated it. He hated even more-so that the workers that came were generally on the posh side of things already, and every rich man wanted the company of a young lady in a skirt. None wanted the male server, or at least that’s what their snarky and uninterested tones suggested.

“Yeah, another shot.”

“Right away, sir. Anymore for you gents?” Jack still withheld hi smile. It was only a quarter to seven and this was the second table to give him the silent treatment. He didn’t even try hiding how he rolled his eyes as he walked away, carelessly swinging his empty tray in his arm. _Pricks._ Baby and Sophie were always somewhere in his peripheral, standing delicately. Sophie was playing with strands of her long hair, while whenever Jack saw Baby she was laughing with his whole posture, much to the enjoyment of her company. Jack grumbled slightly but got his next shot from Bunny. The bartenders work was different depending on times, and now was one of those times where the slot machines were crammed with people, and anyone taking a break or wanted a drink took a seat at the bar. Sera was swamped with customers while Bunny helped her mix for the servers, the turning of cranks a background noise.

“Smile, brat.” Bunny snapped his large fingers in Jack’s face. It only made the worker scowl at him.

“I’m working on it.”

“Someone pissed on yer barbeque, huh?” Aster scoffed, disinterested. Jack still raised an eyebrow at him. Was that him being playful?

“Did you just make an Australian joke, Kangaroo?” Jack was rewarded with a sharp glare and felt the grin split his face. Bunny tilted his chin dismissively.

“That’s better. Now fuck off and do some work.” He turned before Jack could make any other comment, grabbing a clean glass. Jack smiled a little more genuinely as he returned to his table. He didn’t say a word as he dropped off the next shot and walked away, keeping his smile by taking pride in the fact he didn’t need to socialize with those pricks, anyway. He couldn’t wait for the night-goers to start flooding in, raising his morale and the feel of the place. While the Moonbeam was constantly alight with buzzing entertainment, the adrenaline only filtered into Jack when it wasn’t bullshit business.

Jack spent his time taking empty glasses, taking hand counts of people at his tables as he walked by. Most of them didn’t even want to speak a word to him, but that made the time pass faster. A simple wave of their hands in his direction got them a refill. Time passed simply when he didn’t need to pay enhanced attention to any one table, allowing him to glide freely around the floor and hover by the door more frequently. The girls were busy, at least, if anything he should appreciate that he wasn’t the center of attention for a while. The double doors near the hostess podium opened with familiar creaks, the next patron entering without facing Phil’s wrath. The chill that went down Jack’s spine was enough to let him know who entered before he finished turning all the way around.

“Jack, such a surprise.” Pitch was immaculately dressed, as usual. Though he continued his guise of indifference, Jack could see the slight escalation of his eyelids to hint he _was_ surprised to see Jack. True, it was only half past seven and Jack was never in before nine, and even then he rarely stood at the door.

“Mr. Black, a surprise it isn’t.” Pitch chuckled and Jack let a smile creep onto his lips again. “Welcome to the Moonbeam, care for a tour?” Jack was still smiling and of course, reciting what they had to do to any customer entering. His smile faltered when the other gained a smirk with the twitch of his lip.

“That would be splendid.”

“You don’t ne-” He stopped as Pitch raised an eyebrow. Jack flushed but spun away from him. “This way, sir.”

“Lead on.” Pitch chuckled again, silently following behind the server.

“That’s a dirty trick.” Jack commented, weaving around the bar. Normally he’d give the schpeel, but he couldn’t be bothered with it now. Walking the path would suffice the camera-watching manager.

“Asking you to perform the service you offered? Absolutely.” Jack rolled his eyes, still keeping a grin on his face, not that he’d let Pitch see that.

“You’re just lucky I value my job and don’t want the manager seeing me kick you out.”

“I figured.” Jack could hear the smile in his voice. “Considering Sanderson is hosting another game, I don’t think your manager would appreciate you tossing me out, either. If you actually would.”

“What makes you think I wouldn’t?” Jack resisted folding his arms, hesitating by the slot machines loudly chiming around them. Pitch stopped just next to him, hands folded behind his back.

“You haven’t yet, of course. It’s just a silly threat to convince yourself that I’m doing something wrong. Which I’m not, of course.”

“You still can’t smoke in here.” Jack glared up at him from under his hair.

“Then I guess you’re generous with your warnings.”

“Pitch Black!” Jack raised an eyebrow as he saw Nick North approaching them both. A quick glance up gave him a good view of the most hilarious death-scowl that the grey-skinned man could wear while trying to maintain his elegance.

“Nicholas.” He barely flinched as North gave him a hard slap on the back, simply brushing his shoulder with a hand. Jack smiled widely. _Now you know what it feels like to be uncomfortable, Pitch._

“So good to see you! You play slots, now? I never have seen you do that!” North was aglow as usual, dressed in his casual wear and looking so out of place among the well-dressed business sorts. Pitch was no exception, though the wiry man had a wonderful poker face.

“I rarely play. You’re much more well-suited to losing while comfortable on a stool.” Another hand slapped on his back as the older man guffawed, Pitch’s eyes narrowing more. North shook him by the shoulders slightly, and Jack was amused at how the older regular definitely knew that his affections weren’t appreciated. He turned slightly with his hands on his hips now, facing Jack.

“Jack, why you showing Pitch ‘round? Do not worry, he is always a scrooge.” Jack chuckled, of course catching Pitch’s glare.

“I’ve gathered that myself, Nick. I’ll keep him in line. I saw a free chair at the bar, if you wanted to take a break?” The large man’s eyes widened as he looked past Jack, spying a couple spare seats. He patted Jack on the shoulder, which almost shook the young man off balance.

“Wonderful, Jack! You on Nice list, yes? See you later!” North didn’t give Pitch a passing glance as he went to take a seat at the bar, getting Aster’s attention. Jack smiled, beaming up at Pitch as he was returning to his normal scowl. He finally glanced back down at Jack, just in time for the server to start walking again.

“And over here are the roulette wheels.”

“Fascinating.”

“You know North?” Jack glanced up at Pitch as he walked the perimeter of the casino, staying out of the way of players.

“Regrettably. “

“How’s that?” Jack grinned, just catching a grimace from Pitch as he stuffed his hands into his suit pockets.

“I believe I should be getting to the reserved table, now.” Jack nodded and walked around again, taking his time going to the other side of the casino where the poker tables were.

“Don’t lose too much cash.”

“Of course, how else will I assist paying your way through school.” Jack frowned and turned on Pitch, unsurprised by the cocky grin.

“That’s—I didn’t ask you to tip me, for the record. Blow all your money for all I care.” Jack clenched a fist by his side, stopping by the largest table that was still devoid of players. A Reserved sign was placed on it, and he faintly wondered what Sandy had to do to get that reserved at prime time.

“I assure you, I wouldn’t do that.” Pitch grinned.

“From what I’ve heard you aren’t as good at Poker.” Pitch chuckled low in his throat at the comment, making Jack’s brows furrow.

“It isn’t my best game, no. But if you’re so doubtful, would you make a bet?”

“I don’t gamble. I think you have an addiction.”

“So do I,” a smirk grew across his face, his teeth gleaming menacingly. Jack’s throat went dry at the sight. “If I win at least five hands of poker, you will be my personal server whenever I decide.”

Jack sputtered.

“What kind of bet is that?”

“One you’re afraid you’ll lose? Pity.” Jack scowled again. He knew what game Pitch was playing: he wasn’t a coward, or an idiot. Why would he want his wager to be…his company?

“What do I get if you don’t do it, then?” Jack held a hand up as Pitch moved to talk. “And don’t throw this charity crap at me. I work for my money, unlike someone.”

“Feisty. I’ll allow you to choose, in the rare circumstance I lose a wager.” Pitch grinned even wider as Jack’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance.

“Fine, I’ll just have to make Baby make sure you don’t cheat.” Jack waved his hand, finalizing his statement unnecessarily. Pitch nodded and moved around the back of the table, taking his seat.

“Whatever means you need to make sure I don’t cheat you, Mr. Frost. Serving me is such a punishment.”

“Damn right.” Jack put his hands into his pockets, swallowing as his fingers brushed over the paper there. For whatever reason, Pitch smiled even wider at his reaction, as if he knew. “Best of luck, then. You’ll need it.”

“Luck isn’t a variable, but thank you, Jack. Don’t leave your customers too frequently tonight, you’ll have plenty of time to follow me around later.” Jack glared over his shoulder at the comment, feeling his cheeks heating.

“Bullshit.”

“This is poker, not BS.” Jack laughed a little at that but turned away, returning to the bar. He nodded to several patrons making their way to the exit, busily talking about bars down the street. Jack skated around the floor collecting dirty glasses and other trash. He returned to the server station, getting rid of the mess when Baby walked past.

“Another round, Bunny!”

“Fuckin’ hold yer ponies.”

“Not my problem I’ve got thirsty tables!” She wiped her tray of crumbs into the trash. She smiled over at Jack when she noticed him. “Hey! How’s it going?”

“Boring. I hate the evening crowd.” Jack was still smiling, though Baby could tell he was completely serious. She nodded.

“Yeah, you don’t have the tits to show off to make their mouths shut though. But the bright side is they’ll leave to someplace more sophisticated soon.”

“Yeah, hopefully.” Jack shrugged, looking around the floor. Baby frowned and gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get extra tips later tonight. They’re stingy bastards even to us.”

“Well, I’m not so worried about that.” He was a little worried, but didn’t want it to show. Though he didn’t want the other worry to arise either. “You watching poker tonight?”

“As usual!” She gave a salute, showing Jack she’d repainted her nails. He smiled, stuffing his hands back into his pockets.

“Sandy is hosting another game, and you-know-who showed up.”

“The more you talk about him the more I think he’s Voldemort,” Baby perched by him, smoothing out her skirt. “What about him?”

“He bet me that he could win five games.” Baby’s mouth formed an ‘o’ shape, and Jack didn’t look at her straight on.

“You bet against him, what for? You want me to spy, don’t you?” She crossed her arms over her chest. Jack smiled over at her, making it as innocent appearing as he could.

“Would you?”

“Why bet with him, though? Since when are you two on talky-terms?” Jack’s smile slipped and Baby stood up straight, her eyelashes flying upwards. “Oh my _god.”_

“What’s oh my god? I can’t talk to people? I talk to Tooth!”

“It’s different with Tooth! You’re customer-service friendly with Tooth. That hustler is a little too eye-fucking friendly.” Jack could feel his face turning red. He wrung out a wet cloth in his hands to avoid locking eyes with Baby. That wasn’t what he was doing, was it? Flirting…teasing?

“It is not eye-fucking,” Jack frowned, continuing to move the cloth in his hands. “He’s just, uh, creepy beyond all reason.”

“You’re telling me. Why don’t you work the poker tables, just so you can keep an extra close eye on him?” Jack looked across the counter at her, not missing the suggestive wag of her eyebrows. Jack licked his lips at the thought of walking the busy section, seeing the games in progress and the change in atmosphere. But at the same time, he wouldn’t give in to Pitch that easily. If Jack watched the poker table, he would win their bet to have Jack serve him, wouldn’t he?

“I dunno, if I do he’d really get creepy beyond all reason.”

“Aw poor Frosty. How horrible you have a fan fawning after you.” She pulled him into a loose embrace. Jack mumbled a few curses before wriggling himself out of her grasp. “C’mon, it’ll be good training for you, and I’m your crew trainer, right?”

“I’m not a new kid anymore, you know.” He brushed fingers through his hair.

“Nah, course not. I’ll cover roulettes. Go on now, get your fine behind over to your new customers!” Baby prodded him forward by his shoulder blades. He gave an over-exaggerated grumble, twirling the tray on his arm so it rested at his side. Walking on the other half of the bar was foreign to him. Everything was in reverse positions, obviously, but even the people gave off different vibes. The large tables had the professional feeling as men dressed in fine suits and women dressed in sleek silks. He leveled out his shoulders and headed to the far back table of Poker, watching as five card players chatted amiably, the sixth silently observing. The shadowed face somehow lit up when the bright server made his presence known by stepping around to one of the young women.

“Would you like another drink, miss?” He put on a stunning smile as the woman noticed him, locking onto his face and visibly swallowed. She looked back at her glass that was 3/4ths empty before nodding.

“Yes, please. You may have to tell our server about that though.”

“She’s engaged at another part of the bar for the rest of the night, my apologies. I’m Jack.” He smiled as he took the glass, making a show of a quick bow. “So, if you need anything, feel free to call.” She snickers, her smile spreading sideways like some tilted grin.

“Onyx, pleased to meet you. I haven’t seen you on this side.”

“I’m usually on the other side, but I figured I could help Baby out and grace this end with my presence.” He waved a hand, Onyx and another tanner-skinned woman chuckling. “But I’ll get you that Sangria refill. Enjoy your night!” He didn’t give Pitch a passing glance as the man’s eyes bored into Jack’s skull. The dealer began their game, idle chatter lessening as money was put on the line. Jack returned at the end of the first hand to set a full drink on Onyx’s coaster, eying the chips at the center.

“No more bets,” the dealer— a toothpick of a woman Jack only knew because of her friendship with the Roulette runner, Jamie— called. Her voice carried little inflection as if bored, or keeping herself perfectly composed. Jack wondered how she’d gotten to work at the most competitive table in the establishment at her age: and not some job serving like the others. The players that bet (four of the six, including Sandy and Pitch, naturally) turned their cards. Jack hovered the counter, not quite knowing the rules of the game. He’d just seen the last of the four’s hand when the dealer pushed the chips in Pitch’s direction. He frowned as a sneer was instantly aimed back at Jack.

“Congrats.”

“Nothing but luck,” He leered, taking a sip from his untouched glass. Jack rolled his eyes, stepping away and going to another counter. The game was smaller and less professional, easier to pop in on and ask for refills without cutting tension with a knife. Monty, a small young man with obnoxious red glasses led the table’s game, awkwardly shuffling cards.

“Relax, Monty.” Jack elbowed him gently, though he still spilled a few cards onto the soft table. He picked them back up, pushing plastic frames up his nose.

“O-oh, hi Jack.”

“Do you need another pint, sir?” Jack looked away from Monty as one of the amateur players emptied out his glass. Monty sighed but took level and audible breaths, relaxing and finally slipping into his dealer persona. Jack flitted around the poker tables, but his eyes were only drawn to one in particular. He circled the floor, ever-watching each participant of the table acquiring more chips. When he came back and took Sanderson’s empty glass, though he waved to dismiss any further drinking, Jack took stock of how the game progressed. He put the glass on his tray and watched as they raised and Pitch followed. Jack scowled shortly, even more when Pitch gave him three fingers: the amount of hands he’d already won. He rolled his eyes and snatched his glass too, walking around the length of the counter.

He caught Pitch’s eyes watching him, a brow furrowing. He didn’t cease to remain expressionless otherwise.

“No more bets,” Pippa called, able to be heard from where Jack waited for Sera to make a drink for Onyx’s friend. Jack glanced over, grabbing the drink before it even managed to hit the counter. He headed back to the poker table just as cards turned, a conversation just missed by Jack that led to another win for Pitch.

“Nice bluff, Sanderson.” An older gentleman with aged hair and beard commented laced with sarcasm, drinking from a glass. Sandy waved a hand again, dismissing it as a bad call. Pitch’s eyes glowed with mirth and reordered his piles of chips, watching as Jack set down the woman’s drink.

“Thank you, Jack! You’re gonna be making me get drinks from you all night at this rate.” The young woman laughed. Jack’s smile painted itself back onto his face, even if he saw Pitch sneer in his direction. _Four._

“Surely it isn’t the first time a handsome young man has brought you drinks, miss.” Jack said, inserting enough playfulness in his voice to come across as joking. The woman and even Onyx bust up into a fit of giggles, Jack thankful he could speak openly with customers and come out unscathed. The last thing his night needed was an angry patron that couldn’t take a joke.

“Well, it’s not helping me win a hand.” She stifled her laughter enough to watch Pippa hand out the next round of cards, taking herself out of the game in favor of drinking. Jack chuckled, watching the cards shot over the table regardless of the eyes he felt all over him. He skewed his mouth into a sneer without having to directly look across to his audience, spinning on his heel to service the other patrons.

The night went without much fuss: in fact, most of the trouble seemed to happen on Aster’s side of the counter. Jack watched a couple times as intoxicated, slurring men were escorted out by the bulky doorman Phil with Bunny muttering a few curses behind the counter. Sera seemed to not mind, even smiling at the scenes entertaining her more than mixing drinks. Jack made small talk with Sophie and Katherine, talking about things aside from work to break the ice. Both young girls disliked the only thing filling Jack’s mind, which was the player at the table in the back. He’d feel the amber gaze on him far too often as he weaved around swarms of people, fetching drinks and assisting the other girls with their orders as often as possible. Soon enough the crowds thinned and quieted, the clock striking three with Jack not even noticing when the evening shift had begun. Drink orders all but ceased and the only noise in the business was the clicking turns of roulettes, occasional chimes of slots, and the dealers’ calls of bets. Jack leaned on a vacant stool by his station, helping Sera clean up some of her stacks of glasses. He didn’t mind her at all, but the young woman was stern and even stubborn with most things. Jack appreciated her company and temperance: a healthy change from the tomfoolery he would have gotten up to only ten feet around the counters.

His eyes caught Onyx and her friend leaving the poker table, wobbling to the exit on their heels. Jack gave them both a wave as they slurred some sort of farewell to anyone passing them, though Onyx was much more quiet about it as she helped the other woman through the doors. Jack glanced over to the darkened table, seeing games still being played even with less members than they started with. He couldn’t hear them from his perch, but soon saw Sanderson exchange a few motions with Pitch and the older gentleman before standing, making his way out from the back with his winnings. He gave a bright smile to Jack as he crossed to turn in his chips, obviously finished for the night. As if the sun was falling the rest of the liveliness vanished. Pippa went back to sitting at her station shuffling cards, the posh men dispersing and leaving the room even quieter.

As Jack watched the Poker tables clear, he should have anticipated what was to come afterwards.

“Busy night, Mr. Frost?” The creaking of the bar stool next to him sounded. Jack made sure he kept on the frown, unhappy to see the customer that took up the seat directly next to where he was leaning. Pitch was still ridiculously tall, even sitting. The stools weren’t the shortest things, either.

“I’m not used to this part of the bar. Can’t say for sure.” He replied without detail. He still glanced over, unsurprised as Pitch was practically grinning ear to ear, strands of silky black hair falling down by his ears and threatening to misplace over his brow as well. “Busy night for you, hustling some people?”

“Hustling,” the man chuckled, genuinely amused. “You call it that because you thought I was bad at Poker, and now I’ve proved you incorrect.”

“That’s basically the definition, right?” Jack shrugs, setting a clean glass on the other side of the counter.

“Seven hands, by the way. I believe that allots me some extra time, does it not?” Jack whirled to face him suddenly, eyes wide. Pitch chuckled, beaming with mirth. “And how excited you got that I suggest it!”

“That was shock-horror, not excitement!” Jack grumbled, taking another glass and smoothing his cleaning cloth over it. “The bet was five. So, I guess I’m your server for a day.” Jack muttered the last part, teeth kneading his bottom lip.

“I said you’re my server whenever I decide I want your services,” Pitch said, and it took Jack a moment to realize he was reiterating how vague his wager was. With a frown, Jack simply averted his eyes back to his work. “Out of curiosity, what would you have bet if you had won?” The wiry man leaned his frame over the countertop, ignoring the odd look Sera gave him. Jack was thankful he, much like Bunny, let him be when talking to a customer (however begrudgingly he called Pitch a customer).

“I have no idea.” Jack shrugged, setting the class aside. “I hadn’t really thought of anything specific.”

“So you assumed I would win. Good, you aren’t disappointed, then.” Jack aimed an icy glare over to the gentleman that was smirking like the devil. “No worries, I’ve already decided my part of the wager.”

“I figured. I’m frankly amazed how you managed to win so many games when you were hardly keeping your eyes on your cards.” Jack’s words left him before he had the chance to gauge how it sounded. His face flushed minutely, though he turned away from Pitch in a sad attempt at hiding it. He reached over the counter to get a relatively-clean wine glass and clean it again, keeping himself turned away until the blood left his cheeks. Pitch was silent for a moment before a chuckle came from his throat.

“Good to know I amaze you as well, Mr. Frost.”

“Well, you said you’ve decided. Go ahead and let me know your evil plan.” He waved the wash cloth side to side to give his words theatric flair.

“My evil, purely wicked plan was to simply have you following behind me every step in this establishment, but you’ve basically accomplished that tonight by keeping an eye on my game.” Jack frowned again, cursing as his switch with Baby was incredibly noticeable.

“I’m an employee, not some pet.” Jack snapped out the reply, setting the glass down with a little more force than the last. This only made Pitch’s grin turn toothy.

“Of course not. Since you’ve already done that, I thought I could exchange the winnings of your service to your company.” Jack’s face went blank as he repeated the words in his head. With a dark eyebrow raised he looked over at the Moonbeam patron, confusion etched over his face. Pitch’s smile didn’t waver, though it seemed softer. “I would take great pleasure in showing you how to play cards, when you’re off from work. Just a friendly tutoring lesson, no service dog required.”

Jack frowned at that. “Why would you want to waste your time teaching me to play cards?”

“Why would you continue goading me along if you weren’t intrigued?” Jack swallowed at that, brows going closer together in a mock scowl. The pit in his stomach dropped, anxiety coursing through him. Of course being near the lean, almost menacing patron was exhilarating, but being alone with him to do something seemingly innocent seemed just that: seemingly innocent.

“I don’t really have days off,” Jack remarked, turning his face back into indifference. He could hear the smile in Pitch’s words as he replied.

“Well, after work I doubt you could keep your eyes open. What about before? If it doesn’t clash your class schedules.” Jack opened his mouth to object, but Pitch raised a hand. “Please, I already told you it’s not that hard to guess. I admit that I’m checking out of this place tonight so I can attend to my work out of town. I return Thursday.” Jack frowned, processing this. So he’d have a week of knowing Pitch wasn’t boring holes into the back of his head? He wondered what he’d do without the popular topic around.

“I can sleep in Saturday mornings, so….even Friday after work wouldn’t be such a problem staying awake. It takes hours for me to fall asleep after work anyways.” Jack blurted out, looking at the illuminated starlight ceiling as he conveyed the thought.

“Excellent. Friday after work it is, then.” Pitch smiled. “You still have my number, don’t you?”

“What, you’re checking out. Your room number is going to be different, and as if I actually kept that like I’d go for a visit or ring you up.” Jack added as an afterthought. He wasn’t going to mention that the parchment was weighing heavily in his pocket, or that he’d added and deleted the phone number from his contacts at least twice.

“Mm, we’ll see about that. I simply mean you should put my number to use. When you aren’t sleeping your life away or working.” Jack scowled. So what if that was most of his life anyways.

“Your job must be so dull if you’re recommending I call.”

“Texting is much more preferred, really. Even if you think I’m an old man I assure you that technology is nothing new to me.” Pitch was practically beaming, some sort of excitement evident even as he was constantly followed by shadows. The lighting at the bar didn’t help make him appear any less shady, casting perfectly over his face and seams of his suit jacket. Jack swallowed.

“Right, you want to text me at work. I’ll buy that.” He forced sarcasm through his voice. He saw the older man’s lips thin, but looked away and out onto the casino floor to distract himself. No one needed attending too, and he couldn’t even make out more than five figures in the heavy darkness on this half of the bar.

“Humor me,” Pitch shrugs and rises from his stool. Jack swallows again as the motion is fluid enough that it looks like his height just increases to tower directly next to him. “Otherwise, I’ll need to think of some other way to use up the time I have with you.”

“I’m quaking in my chucks.” Jack kicked the bottom ridge of the bar.

“Oh good, for I moment I was wondering if you needed more convincing to keep to your end of our bargain.” Jack’s lips turned downward but he avoided looking over to the figure within inches of him.

“I’ll keep to my end. Texting you like a girlfriend wasn’t part of the deal.” His throat dried instantly, wishing he’d thought that comeback through a bit more.  He wasn’t anticipating the silence that followed, and risked a glance up under his messy line of bangs. That got the reaction of a low chuckle, causing Jack’s mouth to skew into a scowl as he felt his face heating. “I’m serious.”

“I could hardly tell with how amusing you’re being.”

“Amusing!” Jack haughtily repeated. “Is that meant to be flattering, Mr. Black?”

“If it works, yes.” Pitch grinned, and Jack realized his snarl had morphed into a smirk as well. He licked his lips, forcing his face to relax and release the smile before it got even more obvious. He let out a breath of a laugh.

“Yeah okay, I’ll see if my busy sleeping-and-learning schedule allows for some texting. Heaven forbid I don’t and learn what other plans you had.” He set down the glass he’d been cleaning for minutes, having run out of dirty ones.

“I look forward to it, Mr. Frost. Come Friday we can arrange how we play our game.”

“Yeah, okay.” Jack affirmed immediately, wringing the cleaning cloth in his fingers.

“I look forward to it.” Pitch took a few steps away. Jack swallowed hard before turning.

“What, not going to give me your number again?” Pitch stopped and backtracked, spinning on his heels. Jack swallowed hard as the only reason he did this was so only Jack could hear him.

“You still have it in your pocket, unless you want me to write it out again.” Jack’s face felt warm as another slip of paper came from Pitch’s breast pocket. While he kept his uninterested visage, Pitch wrote out another set of numbers and showed it to Jack. “Satisfied?”

“Thanks,” Jack muttered. He should have known Pitch was observant enough to tell he had actually kept the note from before. He moved to take the slip of paper when Pitch simply took another step forward, long fingers effortlessly holding over the breast pocket of his suit vest and dropping it inside. Jack swallowed hard, holding his breath as Pitch gave the spot a pat.

“That one’s free, don’t lose it now.”

“Right.” He cleared his throat.

“If you manage to ‘lose’ two copies of that in one night it may hurt my feelings.” Pitch smirked, humor etched deep into his voice.

“Can’t have that, huh.”

“Good night, Mr. Frost.” Pitch stepped behind him and started back into the casino.

“Good nigh-ey!” Jack whirled around only to see Pitch striding back towards the collection booth. Jack mumbled, straightening his vest unnecessarily. He chewed the inside of his lip and tossed the cleaning cloth behind the counter just as Sera came back around, carrying a tub filled with shot glasses.

“What’s got you so hot under the collar, kiddo?” She rumbled, raising an eyebrow. Jack’s hand went to his throat immediately, hoping his cold fingers could get rid of the flush spreading there.

“Pretty sure some douchebag just grabbed my ass.” He hated how the words barely came out of his mouth as intelligible. Sera’s eyes widened as she set the bin down. Without ever breaking eye contact, she reached down and pulled out a wooden Louisville slugger from some space under the drinks. They stared at each other for several moments before bursting out into hysterics, Jack holding himself up on his elbows at the bar counter. After a few moments Aster came around the corner with a disapproving glare, to which the two chuckled at a lower level. Sera gradually slipped the bat to wherever she retrieved it from.

“So, how are you liking this side of the place?” Jack wiped his eyes, still leaning on the counter as he looked around the casino. He spied Sanderson walking around and acquainting himself with the doormen and other employees that could’t resist his warmth and charm. The older man seemed to find Nick and strike up conversation, though the Santa impersonator was a bit inebriated after a bad night. Finally, he saw Pitch collecting his winnings and shoot a gaze back towards Jack, disappearing behind one of the support pillars.

“I like it, a lot.” He responded, still staring at the back wall where the connecting hotel doors opened and closed. 


	4. Jack Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack has a week until he pays his debt of the wager against Pitch Black. It can't be a death sentence, can it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woops, hi. I think about this fic a lot. Over Thanksgiving I wrote most of this, and a swell comment reminded me that I was very close to finishing it.  
> It's not as long as I would have liked, but I feel it would have been too long otherwise. So please enjoy, and sorry about the wait. I've been fairly uninspired with writing and RotG. 
> 
> Also, I had no idea the Jack Rose was a drink, and it's very fitting for this chapter. So please enjoy

The alarm on Jack's phone went off for three rings. The nuclear-attack-on-your-home warning sound was enough to make Jack jerk from his pillow of the first ring, glare on the second, and fumble with the snooze button by the third. The curly riot of frosty tendrils that was Jack's hair fell back against the pillow with a heavy sigh _. I really should change my wake-up time. Sundays are supposed to be the easy days._

An end to a long night was something to be worked towards. Everything in the casino had to be cleaned and restocked, tips needed counting and claiming, before finally being allowed to punch out to the sun rising. The casino was closed during the morning and afternoons, so there was no rush to finish before another set of staff would come in. On the alternative, it all needed to be done before opening, and if it took that long, it would. The drive to the ratty apartment at nearing seven in the morning was enough of a struggle. Working class folks were cramming up the highways and streets on weekdays. Weekends could be the same errand-runners and early-risers while the server tried keeping awake enough to fall into bed at home.

Of course that never went as planned. There was studying to do and things to clean and food to heat up. Take-out didn't exactly keep the schedule the Jack did, so he ordered during the day and saved portions for dinners when he felt like a bit of Chinese or cold pizza. So when there was food to eat, there were reruns to watch on the TV, another load of dishes that could get started, and something to finish so he could sleep-in just that extra ten minutes. The good thing about being young was working through a night, eating artery-clogging foods, and sleeping until the sun went back down and do it all again.

Sort of.

It was around three p.m. when the atomic bomb of an alarm clock went off. Running on five hours of sleep wasn't anything new, at least, as Jack dragged himself from bed and made his way to the shower. He tugged on a pair of jeans, shirt, and his pullover hoodie. He ran his fingers through his hair and mussed it around, content in letting it dry. First things first—he placed an order to restock his nightly pizza reserves. He went through his jeans and trouser pockets for extra change and bills forgotten in them. It wouldn’t be the first time he left a significant amount of cash in his pockets and ran it through the wash. A couple singles, a now-safe five, and some crumpled up straw wrappers. He threw the pants into the washing machine down the hall, making a second trip for his vests and checked the breast pockets. Feeling the business-card slip of paper inside sparked confusion before a blush formed on Jack’s face. He looked over the ten-digit number scrawled elegantly on the paper and gave a defeated sigh.

The washer started up as Jack padded back into his apartment. He spun and fell back onto the navy sofa, looking over the card in his fingers. Now seemed a good enough time to weigh the pros and cons of the situation, or at least put the number in the garbage disposal instead of the washer.

Pros _: He wants me to text him, and texting would stop him from bugging me about not texting him. He’s sort of funny, in like a ‘I hate everyone’ kind of way. Could annoy him outside of work and not lose my job. Could bail on the deal over the weekend through a text. Though bailing wouldn’t be the best thing to do, it’d just open me up for more harassment. Pitch would accuse me of being a coward or something_. The young boy scowled. No, he was going to go. That was the deal.

Cons: _The weirdo that watches me at work will have my number. Might mean more than just hanging out once? But if it went poorly they won’t message each other anymore. It’d make for awkward work situations. Pitch has made some servers cry, so could he really get that nasty?_

The doorbell rang. Jack got to his feet and retrieved his pizza, signing away his money for a few more nights of dinner. With one too-hot slice balanced on his fingers, cheese trailing from his mouth and the corner he took a bite from, he looked back at where he left the card.

_Fuck it._

He set the pizza back into the box, brushing away the crumbs on his pants, and pulled his phone from where it was in his hoodie pocket. He typed in the numbers slowly, as if in extra care to making sure it was correct— or extra slowly as if each digit was the last chance to stop typing.

_What the hell am I supposed to say?_ Jack looked at the screen devoid of previous messages in thought. “Hi” wasn’t going to cut it. “Hey” is too friendly. “This is Jack” too lame and “Guess who” just plain awkward. He took a breath, typing, erasing, editing, and going over it a couple times before hesitating to hit the send button.

 

Jack:

_Morning. This is my number._

 

Not the cleverest of first moves but—this was not a first move! He put the device back into his pocket and returned to enjoying the fresh slice of pepperoni. He ate a second slice before cutting himself off, putting the rest of the box on the dedicated “pizza shelf” of the fridge. As he washed his hands the phone in his pocket jingled. _Pants work well enough as a paper towel_ , Jack reminded himself and pulled out his phone.

Creepy: 

Afternoon. You’ve missed the point of the day to be considered even close to morning.

 

Of course no matter what he would say, it would get poked at.

Jack:

_Funny. I at least have nowhere to be during those points of the day that could be considered morning._

Jack retreated back down the hall, switching his laundry to the dryer. His phone went off again.

 

Creepy:

Lucky you. I, like most, have a day job to return to.

 

Jack:

_Lucky you! ‘Most’ don’t spend all nights are casinos either._

 

Creepy:

There are plenty of other things that set me aside from ‘most’ people.

 

Jack rolled his eyes and headed back to his place on the couch. He still had time to lay back and watch TV before work. Sundays were definitely the ‘try to be lazy’ day of the week. With classes three days a week and work all seven of them, it hardly left in much time to do anything else. Since moving to Vegas, plenty of friends from school went in separate directions, and the only new friends he had were the ones he already saw every day in the Moonbeam. So his social life was on the rocks, but with a good paying job, an apartment with working AC and heating, and bartending classes, Jack was convinced that was all he needed.

Maybe that was why it was so weird to be texting someone new. Though, that “someone new” was definitely weird for his own reasons. He shook his head, reclining on his couch and changing the channels.

Halfway through some Sci-Fi B-movie, his phone went off more excessively than just a text message. Jack withdrew it from his pocket, accepting the call.

“H’lo?”

“Jack, hey!”

“Hey. What do you want this time?” Jack smiled at the familiar voice.

“I’d make fun of you for assuming that, but you’re right. Tallie isn’t feeling well. Could you come in and finish up her shift and just stay through yours?”

Jack looked over at the kitchen, where the stove gave the time. It was about seven minutes off, meaning it was just barely past five-thirty. By the time he got to work it’d be nearly six, and he normally didn’t work until nine. An extra three hours was plenty of cash, for sure.

“It’ll be a long night and you got class in the morning, but I’ll make sure you’re out of here first! We can cover the clean-up.” Baby interrupted his thoughts, more pleadingly. Jack gave a sigh.

“Okay, I need to get my laundry and I can head over.”

“Awesome! We don’t want you smelling. Thanks Jack!”

“Thanks Baby. I’ll be there soon.” He ended the call and stood. He stretched, feeling parts of his spine and shoulders straightening. He looked back at the phone in his fingers, opened once more to his texts.

Jack:

_Is it still considered and overnight job if you go in early?_

One more trip down the hall, one pair of white trousers and waistcoat attained, he padded back into his bedroom and got his uniform straightened out. With another glance to the mirror and making sure his hair was halfway presentable, he snatched up his keys and headed out the door. He dropped down into the seat of the car just as his phone chimed again.

 

Creepy:

I would say you’ve been promoted from ‘overnight’ to ‘overworked’ when you spend more time under that roof than your own.

 

Jack:

_Maybe I’ll start working mornings like most people so it can be counted as a day job._

Creepy:

If you could even rouse yourself. You’re unlike most people as well.

 

Jack looked at the time on his dashboard, tossing the phone into the passenger seat as he began the drive to work.

 

 

While Sundays were sleepy and lazy, Mondays started off early and never ended. After working so late on Sundays, Jack woke up just after noon, usually earning him more sleep than during other nights. His body knew what was coming and knew to crash in order to get at least six hours of sleep. Jack woke up, got himself dressed in his usual high-school punk attire, and drove to class.

The bartending school was very nice. They always had scheduled times with the same tutors and classmates. The building wasn’t a functioning club anymore, but the interior remained the same with full bar top and taps. Most classes were discussing mixed drink ingredients, names, percentages, and one session where some connoisseur had come in and smelled a glass of wine and described the landscape where the grapes had been picked. Jack’s favorite parts were the flair practice. Juggling, mixing, throwing and spinning expensive glass and ice was what attracted Jack to pursuing the class. Bartending was a hobby or a side-job to most, but Jack wanted everything. Good pay, keeping busy, and plenty of fun. If only he were old enough to start right away. For now he had to learn the tricks and practice pouring with water-filled taps and identifying spirits by the bottle and color instead of the taste. Only a few more months until he could. He really owed the school director for letting him join before he turned 21. The tricks and knowledge could be taught months in advance, even if he couldn’t sample any of his mixes.

Classes were Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and naturally, once they had ended for the day: Jack scurried off to the Moonbeam to commence working on the opposite side of the bar. Knowing what was in the drinks certainly helped with any curious customers, but most of the Moonbeam’s visitors were much more proficient in their ability to identify alcohol. The various smells and colors were the most tell-tale of certain beverages. The difference between a dark and a light beer was more like something that you needed to learn and taste to know. Considering Jack wasn’t “old enough” to know that sort of difference, he relied solely on scent and looks.

Especially how they looked all over his white waistcoat.

“Oh sh—shoot. Let me grab you another Bloody Mary here.” Jack’s smile was a bit to toothy to be sincere, though he was biting back the weird feeling of sticky-wet feeling of vodka and juice soaking through his clothes and chest.

“I’m sorry! I wasn't looking, I’ll buy you dry-cleaning, don’t worry over it.” The customer, unscathed by spilled beverage, caught Jack before he could scurry away. Jack’s face was about as red as the stains bleeding through his uniform now. _And I just did laundry._

“I’ll just go wash it off, really—” Jack tried to retreat again, an arm clapping him over the shoulder before he could step back.

“Here Jack, there is a change of clothes in the back that’ll fit you. I’ll take care of this gentleman’s drink.” Jack’s mouth went dry as he looked over at the voice. His boss, Manny, was a figure that didn’t often come out onto the casino floor. He was barely Jack’s height—a rotund and baby-faced man, skin nearly as pale as Jack’s and face dimpled like the moon itself. His suit was cream-colored, matching his platinum toned hair, and somehow it didn’t glow as well as Jack’s uniform did around the dark-lit establishment. He was smiley and stout and was jolly enough that Nick North would be proud.

That, and Jack had only met the man one time—his interview, when he was hired. So ‘intimidating’ could be added to the list. The hand on his shoulder gave another pat, shaking him from the momentary surprise.

“Yeah—yes. Thank you, sir.” He shot another smile back at the customer and headed back over to the bar top. Unsurprisingly, Bunny and Baby were present and looking at him strangely.

“You a’ight, show pony?” Aster straightened his shoulders and made his mouth form a hard line. Jack put the now-empty glass and wet tray into the bus tub nearby.

“Yeah, I’m good. He just swung his arm back suddenly.”

“It happens to everyone, Jacky. Don’t let it get you down.” Baby gave him a bright smile. “But you do need to get rid of those clothes. You look like a murderer came through the place!”

“Please, you flatter me.” Jack smiled, heading back to the staff room. It was the middle of the Monday rush (meaning, everyone had something to do, but not enough to run their shoes off), and the break room was vacant. Jack untied the apron from his waist and set it on the counter, damp in a couple spots, but nothing terrible. Locating a locker near the back of the room, he dug out a clean white button-up and black pants. While his vest and shirt had taken the majority of the damage from the crime scene of tomato juice, his trousers had gotten red spots down the side where the glass had tipped over the edge of the tray. Curse wearing white. He shut the locker and carried his change of clothes across the carpet to the bathrooms, still not used to the glossy black interior, and shut the door.

He emptied his pockets—a few bills hastily put away, some ticket stubs, and his phone. He gave it a strange look before setting the extra clothes down, lifting up his phone again and aiming it at his reflection in the mirror.

 

Jack:

[PICTURE ATTACHED]

_I’ll say I’m overworked for today._

He didn’t even know why he sent that. He set the phone down on the ledge quickly, shaking the memory from his mind quickly as he changed clothes. Shining star of the casino floor turned into hotel-doorman, but it was better than being a homicide victim. The shirt was a little baggier than he was used to, especially near his shoulders and wrists, but the trousers were a decent fit. He washed off his hands, already feeling the gross stickiness over them, thankful it didn’t leave any spots on his change of clothes. The shelf on the mirror vibrated loudly as his phone went off. He lifted it back up, trying to ignore the smile that came to his face.

 

Creepy:

You look like you had a fight with a blender. And lost.

 

Jack:

_Well you should see the other guy!_

Creepy:

Refrain from getting yourself fired from your overworked overnight job.

 

Jack rolled his eyes but smiled, slipping the phone back into his pocket, along with the assorted bills, and retrieved his apron. As he re-entered the staff room, Manny was just entering. Jack swallowed hard, keeping his bundle of clothes on one arm.

“Good enough for the rest of the night, huh?” The pudgy man smiled, retrieving a bag from underneath a counter. “Here, put those in here before they stain more. I’ll take care of it.”

“Sorry, sir.” Jack murmured after a moment, sliding the uniform into the plastic.

“It happens! Why, when Aster started behind the bar, he accidently got a quarter of a keg all over himself and the floors. The floor sees more disaster than that, his shoes however, not so much.”

Jack’s smile returned to his face. Manny took the bag from him and gave him another clap on the shoulder. “There’s a lad. Back out ya go.”

“Thank you, sir.” Jack nodded, tying the apron over his hips and heading back out the doors. Jack Frost back in action.

 

Tuesday tended to be as slow, or slower, than Mondays could be. The casino was never empty, but there were the hours at a time where no one new would enter, and the regulars wanted to be left alone to play the games. Wednesdays and even Thursdays could follow the same pattern. It did seem that most people with day jobs avoided the long hours stretching through the early morning of the casino. After harassing Aster about the keg incident when he had started, Jack’s nights remained at a steady and uneventful week. There was one moment where a glass slipped from his fingers and fell, inconveniently, next to the bus tub, splintering into a few pieces against other pieces of crystal. He picked out the pieces and retreated to the break room to wipe off his scratched fingertips and that one bit that might be bleeding. Bandaged up, he snapped a picture with his off hand.

 

Jack:

[PICTURE ATTACHED]

Regular week at the overworked overnights job.

 

As usual, a response was nearly immediate.

 

Pitch:

I’m starting to think that you’re trying to incapacitate yourself before Friday night.

 

Jack laughed and headed back out onto the floor.

 

 

Friday. Another long day for eating cold pizza, packing his recently-dry-cleaned clothes, driving to class, and hauling ass to the Moonbeam. Traffic was more forgiving than the week before, thus Jack arrived just early enough to change, get himself presentable, and clock in without being late. The place was already thrumming with people, the roulettes were getting filled and laughter bounced off the walls. It should be familiar by now, something in his routine that got old. But something about walking around on the floor, taking drink orders and weaving around the machine’s flashing lights got the young server’s blood pumping regardless of the day and how slow the rush was. Fridays were never slow, except maybe after a holiday.

Even more so, now that he saw the tables on the other side of the place getting filled. Sandy had walked in only moments ago, waving to the doormen and moving back to his reserved table. Jack returned to his station, and it only took minutes to feel eyes at the back of his head. He returned to the bar, waiting for a new drink order when he actually saw him—tucked back in the usual corner for Sandy’s games, looking morose as ever. Jack gave a short grin that was reciprocated before Bunny set the glass down in front of him. Back to the roulette.

As the night slowed off around three in the morning, the sounds of slot machines being most of what filled the right section of the casino. The back was silent aside from the card dealer’s calls and shuffling. Jack walked along the wall of his section, towel in hand, wiping off tables that had been abandoned. A few stray glasses set into a trolly, another table left sparkling under the low lights, another feeling of someone watching him. It didn’t take much for Jack to turn and see the shadow from the poker tables approaching him.

“Evening.”

“Morning, sir.” Jack smiled back at him, the patron’s smile turning thin. “Good game, tonight?”

“Fine enough. Playing with the same people can become tedious.” Pitch Black responded, hands folded behind his back as usual.

“What a shame you only have the same handful of friends to play with.”

“For shame. I didn’t come over here for us to badger each other, however.”

“Didn’t you? That’s usually what happens.”

“Because you’re nervous.” Pitch tilted his chin up so slightly, smug. Something on Jack’s face must have said yes, he was nervous, talking to the imposing gambler. “I came to give you a last chance to withdraw yourself from our wager.”

“You make it sound like a death sentence.”

“You’ve reacted as if it was.”

“I’m not about to pussy out if that’s what you’re asking. I’ll keep my word.” Pitch’s barely visible eyebrows rose up to his slicked-back hairline.

“Well then. I’ll see you by the lobby doors when you finish up your work.”

“You will.” Jack nodded, going to turn away when Pitch’s movement stopped him halfway. “What?”

Pitch glanced around the room for a moment, as if reading a telegraph going on in his mind. He took the final step between the two of them, brushing something over the front of Jack’s vest. He slid back and breezed his way back towards the poker tables, gliding around the walls to keep to unlit areas and prying eyes. Jack swallowed and looked down at himself, finding a small, black flower slipped into the button loop of his breast pocket.

“What a weirdo.” Jack murmured, looking over the small decoration to his ensemble, and rolled his eyes almost fondly. A loud group at the roulette tables hollered into his thoughts, reminding him not to stand around. He cleared his throat, returning to cleaning the table in front of him, ignoring the reflection of himself blushing on the surface.

 

“What is that?” Jack looked up from the glass he was cleaning as Baby marched in front of him. Her baby-blue and violet shaded eyes narrowed at him, her arms crossed, and Jack realized what she was staring at.

“What is what?” At a trimmed eyebrow being raised, he gave a smile. “I found it?”

“What. A. Creep!”

“C’mon, Baby—”

“Last week you just met this guy and called him a creeper, now you’re getting flowers from him. I told you it was eye-fucking!” Jack’s shoulders hunched, putting a finger over his lips as her voice got louder.

“Shush! It’s fine.”

“When’s the wedding, hm? Is that your first date?”

“It is not, alright?”

“Well you’re not telling me something. Spill kiddo!” She propped her chin up on a manicured hand. Jack made a long groan; it only made her smile wider.

“He just wanted to teach me cards, alright? Trying to get on my good side.”

“Teach you cards huh. Who’s the dealer?” Her eyebrows waggled.

“Barbara Elizabeth—”

“Gross!” Baby hissed, covering her ears. Jack grinned back at her.

“Deserved it.”

“Whatever, you need to tell me what’s going on. Because if something happens—” Jack shook his head.

“I said it’s fine! We’re playing cards tonight, that’s all. So he can brag about how good he is at blackjack or something.” Baby made a loud groaning sound and stuck her tongue out.

“You’re both disgusting. It pains me to see you be so ignorant, Jack.”

“I’m not, it’s just—”

“Do you two ever get any work done over ‘ere?” Aster walked over to his half of the bar nearest to the server station. He set two dirtied glasses in the bus tub as a pair of people left their stools to hobble onto the gambling floor.

“Plenty, you just don’t pay attention.” Jack grinned up at the Aussie. Baby shot Jack a glare, one Jack knew translated to ‘you’re not getting out of this’. Jack pointed a thumb over his shoulder and spun on his heels back out onto the floor to service his remaining customers, leaving Baby floundering a scolding at his back.

 

Phil and the other bouncers helped lift stools and push the vacuum over the floors. Sera and Aster were going through their wall of spirits, jotting down what needed to be purchased to restock the. Baby and the other servers clustered together, wiping their last table and meandering into the staff room, collecting their things before heading home.

Jack filed in behind them, retrieving his hoodie from its place on the hook and slipping back out before he was noticed. Across the room, the lights of the hotel were still shining through the double glass doors, barely illuminating the wispy form of the blackjack player. As many times as Jack saw him standing ominously in a corner, he actually looked slightly out of place here, in the open. Jack nodded to him as he approached.

“Backing out now?” Jack retorted, drawing the amber gaze down to him. Pitch simply smiled, relaxing further and opening the doors to the hotel.

“I won’t repeat that foul language you used earlier.”

“Heaven forbid.” Jack found himself following him down the hall. While being attached, the casino employees didn’t involve themselves in the business of the hotel. It was Jack’s first time actually making it past the connecting tunnel into the lobby. He was floored by the gold and crystal accents along the walls and ceiling. Pitch turned and awaited an elevator, the walls completely glass and giving a view into the central lounge. A small pool and waterfall was placed below the steps, causing gentle water sounds to fill the vacant lobby and empty plush seats. The ding of the elevator arriving pulled Jack’s eyes away from the décor, following Pitch into the glass-walled capsule.

Even with knowing the walls were glass, the entire hotel in view, Jack felt claustrophobic. Pitch had an aura that unsettled the server—made something under his ribs itch and heart beat faster. That, and Jack was familiar with what could happen in hotel elevators. _Jackson Overland Frost, stop thinking right now._ He bolstered himself as the doors slid open. The hallway that greeted them was short, likely because it was only one room on this floor. Jack now realized this was probably Pitch’s moment to show off, but upon inspecting the room number, the gambler was not lying when he said he always had the same room in the prestigious hotel.

                Jack held his breath as Pitch opened the door, and followed him inside.


End file.
